


All The Stars In The Sky

by Lemonsqueeze13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Black Family, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-01-18 22:21:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12397416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemonsqueeze13/pseuds/Lemonsqueeze13
Summary: AU/TT. A few years after the defeat of Voldemort, Harry Potter is witness to the demise of his remaining family. Losing himself in his grief Harry Potter decides to quit. However, circumstances force him to be reborn into the Black family in 1955 to take action in the wizarding world, and prevent that future. Will he struggle to deal with his new upbringing and environment as he prepares to face an inevitable war?





	1. Hell Of A Life

I gained cognizance at age 6. My name is Ara Black.

Though, a lot of the time I end up referring to myself as the person I previously knew myself to be. Harry Potter. 

I only ever end up doing that in my head, and fortunately enough I’m doing that less and less recently. I guess it’s funny in a way, that my life as Harry wasn’t as long as it was; now that it’s helping me adjust to my new identity while I catch up to my previous age. I know I’m Ara now, but Harry’s memories will always be there. 

There’s often nights I find myself reminiscing as to how I got here. How Harry ended up becoming Ara. 

It had been a few years since Voldemort had died, I was 23 years old at the time. I had actually ended up moving in with Andromeda Tonks and my godson Teddy sometime around ‘99. Ginny and I had sort of drifted apart after the conclusion of the war. It just felt like the relationship was born out of desperation, as if Harry was trying to find an anchor for himself in all the chaos at the time - and Ginny served that purpose. So when that desperation dissolved, the passion did too. Thankfully it all ended as well as could be hoped, considering it was a breakup afterall, unpleasant but it surely wasn’t terrible. I felt so anyway. 

Andi was there for Harry and took him in after that, wasn’t exactly going to be comfy at the Burrow after breaking baby Weasley’s heart. It was a definite bonus that he got to dote on Teddy as much as he wanted, so definitely for the best. 

Life went on after that. Neville, Ron, and Harry went through with the Auror training and subsequently worked at the DMLE. Hermione of course completed her final year alongside Ginny and Luna. Hermione ended up at the ministry, working at The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. S.P.E.W lived! Ginny got a contract with the Holyhead Harpies, and Luna was working under some Scamander bloke for her Magizoology mastery.

In his capacity as an Auror Harry had even kept tabs on the Malfoys. For obvious reasons. Although over time, he'd done his best to get along with Narcissa, she and Andi had reconciled so she was around fairly often. It’s wasn’t easy being civil with one of the most bigoted and venomous people Harry knew, but she did spare his life and Harry had vouched for her family, sparing them Azkaban, so they made it work. Draco was doing better as well. They spoke some after the war. I won’t say they were ever friends, but Harry did end up understanding his position somewhat better. His choices were never the smartest or ever took in mind Harry's personal well being, but they were always done with his family in mind. I couldn’t begrudge him for that too much. Still an arsehole though. Harry never spoke of or to Lucius. I always have and will despise the man. He should just be thankful he was alive, a dementorless Azkaban was more than he deserved.

It was April 2003 when Harry had lost everything all over again. Andi, Hermione, Ron, Teddy, and Harry were out that day in celebration of Teddy’s fifth birthday. They’d just spent a brilliant day at Canary Wharf, and were on their way to the war memorial at the ministry to show Teddy Remus and Nymphadora. At this point in his life, Harry had grown very very accustomed to being in a caring and loving environment, surrounded with the few people in the world who he could sincerely consider more precious than life to him. 

So their loss absolutely destroyed Harry. 

I still remember describing how Harry felt following Sirius’ and Dora’s passing. I felt much the same with Dobby’s and Hedwig’s death too. Physical, and never-ending pain, like a constant festering wound. The agony Harry felt at the death of those four… Well let's just say I would have considered being back in that graveyard under Tom’s Cruciatus a welcome reprieve from the suffering he went through.

One of Riddle’s last surviving sycophants chose the fifth anniversary of the end of the war for his tribute. It was just coincidence that he decided the memorial was the best location, and it was just blind luck that the “Chosen One” ended up being there with his family. So one massive explosion later, Harry woke up in St. Mungo's barely hanging on to his life. Harry's family wasn’t so lucky. That day he truly lost the four people who meant everything to him. And with them fled any will Harry had left to live. 

His family wasn’t perfect by any means, but they were his and he loved them. His own guiding light in a vast darkness. Ron and Hermione still fought over the littlest of things, but they loved each other and they loved Harry. And that was enough for him. Teddy always served as a reminder of the people who never made it out of the last war, Moony and Tonks especially, but for all intents and purposes he was Harry's son and he was Teddy's father. And they showed each other that sentiment every single day. And Andi was always stern with him, she never approved of how Harry indulged himself a little when it came to the fairer sex or lost himself to his work, despite the fact that it was his coping mechanism. But she was his pillar of strength, his shoulder to cry on, and his very first family member who looked after him. 

I...Harry...just lost it. 

I don’t remember much of what Harry had done following the last rites. He was pretty much in a drunken stupor for the next few days. I’m sure every bar in Diagon Alley had to replenish their stores after he’d graced them with his presence. My last clear memory before Harry's death was standing there in front of that cursed arch that took Sirius. 

I remembered the conversation Harry had with Luna when they were still in Hogwarts, about the voices beyond the veil. About the loved ones who left us, just there, just a step forward and we’d be reunited with them. That’s all that was going through Harry's head. 

So he stepped through the Veil of Death. Ending the saga of Harry Potter. A pathetic life if there ever was in my opinion. Except maybe Sirius or Peter, now that I think about it. From the little he told me himself, and the blanks later filled in by Andi, his life was seriously tragic. And Peter, well, he was just a miserable sod whose end was caused by his own hand - literally. 

I was expecting the same sort of scene that I experienced the first time Harry died, but rather than Dumbledore, the people who he actually wanted to meet waiting for him instead. What I actually got was something similar to the browned, damp pages of an old book somewhere, and I came out looking like a silhouette of myself. I was alone and confused until another silhouette creeped up on me. Almost looked like a skinny version of Hagrid draping a large black sheet over himself. Turns out, it was Death.

“Welcome O’ Great and Powerful Master of Death” That was the first thing it said to me. 

You expect a lot from the avatar of death, a sarky little shite of an attitude wasn’t one of those. It took a while to get a handle on the situation, what eventually came out was that Harry being the last person in contact with all three hallows somehow made him the master of death. Even better, as a result of said status he was not allowed to die till such time that someone else gained ownership of all three. So the decision Death had made was to simply spit Harry back out of the veil, when and where he came in from. 

That was not acceptable to me. 

A bit of bargaining and a lot of arguing later we came to an understanding. In exchange for Harry forfeiting the three hallows to Death, he would permit me another chance at life and I would also be allowed to die properly the next time. Only catch, I wasn’t reliving my own life as Harry, I would be born to a family that was originally meant to be culled by Voldemort much earlier on. He couldn’t send me back to my original time because apparently the whole living horcrux thing fucks his ability to interfere up. I agreed with the stipulation that whatever horcruxes he had created up until the moment I was being reborn would be made redundant. I was not about to go through that scavenger hunt again. 

And If Death almighty can’t take fractured pieces of some megalomaniacs soul, what would honestly be the point of him?

I’ll admit at the time I almost didn’t take the offer. It really wasn’t an ideal choice for Harry, he just wanted to be done with it all. But the revelation that he-I could prevent the deaths of so many he had cherished, and even the chance to hopefully make a better environment for everyone down the line. It would have been even more selfish of him to give up the deal than taking it was. And in that instance, that relentless pain that followed him everywhere lifted. 'Poof' - up and gone; just like - well magic. 

Seems a little convenient to be sure, but I’ll just have to live with it. The knowledge that I’ll be there to make sure that no one I love and Harry ever loved will suffer as long as I do my job properly relieves more than a fair bit of the weight on my conscience. I’m sure Death did their part in ensuring my transition was as seamless as possible too. Can’t exactly have an alcoholic toddler with a penchant for suicidal behaviour running around. I’m sure that would’ve been more than a little odd.

So here I am, born Ara Black, July 31st 1955. Son of Dorea Black and Charlus Potter - who would’ve been my father had he not been dead before my birth. I wonder if I’ll have both parents the third time around. Anyway, as a result of her husband’s passing my mother was taken back in by the Black family head - her brother Arcturus Black, and I was named as Black instead of Potter. It was no big deal to the Potters either way. Charlus’ elder brother Fleamont and his wife Euphemia Potter are still alive, well, and relatively young - for wizards anyway. So my original grandparents still had my original father. 

I still look much the same as Harry had, same green eyes, same messy hair - if a little darker in shade. I do have sharper features now though, resembling my mother Dorea a fair bit, squarer jaw, higher cheeks and such. Best part though, I’m actually being fed properly, so I’m hopeful that I’ll be taller than Harry ever was; also no more specs. I was never really fond of being challenged in the height and sight department. 

I was a little apprehensive initially, when I found out who my direct family was. I was wary of being treated like Sirius was. I needn’t have worried though, sifting through my memories of Ara’s life before age six, I realized just how beautiful a person Dorea is. I am so absolutely adored by my mum, it really baffles me sometimes. And I can wholeheartedly say I feel just the same about her. Unconditional love. Is this how all children with loving parents grow up? Because if it is, I think I finally understand the concept of a mama’s boy. And over time we’ve only grown closer. It’s honestly a little overwhelming, I find myself smiling so much in her presence. I love my mother. 

It’s not always strawberries and cream though. Being the eldest born son in the Black household, there are more than a few expectations I have an obligation to rise to. I was taught our history and values, how to walk, how to talk and to whom, how to eat, how to dance, and all the rest. Just all this pureblood etiquette and knowledge I generally considered nonsense was hammered into me from day one. Really rather tedious, but whenever I saw the pride and love in mother’s eyes, those tender hugs, the way she gently tousles my hair, always with that beautiful smile on her face; it gave me immense motivation to achieve and exceed regardless of my own personal views on the subject. 

Judge me if you so wish, but waking up swaddled in Dorea’s warm embrace when I was younger have been some of the best memories I’ve had in any life. Dorea is someone I will never be able to dissapoint. It also helped that she wasn’t a typical Black parent, I really dodged spellfire not being born to Sirius or Andromeda’s parents. So growing up I did my absolute best to live up to her expectations. And despite the fact that she is an affectionate woman, she is still a Black. And as such there's a lot I’m required to live up to - which I’ve somehow managed to surpass thus far.

This, unsurprisingly, has caused a fair bit of internal strife for the family though. Uncle Arcturus - Head Black - is not overly fond of either of his sons. Orion he simply considers Walburga’s whipping boy, and there was no way he was about to leave the family in the claws of that screeching harpy - his words not mine. Then there’s Cygnus, who in the old man’s opinion is far too enamored by his own reflection. 

Arcturus confided in me that he was worried Cygnus had been switched at birth with a Malfoy. And given what I knew of Lucius’ vanity, I suspect that his biological father very well could’ve been Cygnus. And while Druella is a lovely enough lady, she’s a tad too submissive to be an effective leader and more importantly she was not born a Black. 

Now given my stellar performance and slightly tighter grip on sanity than the others, Arcturus tended to fuss over me a bit. The tension all came to a head on my tenth birthday where, as per Black tradition, my magical power was measured. Turns out, Harry’s magical strength was transferred over to the new me. Harry’s fully matured, and auror trained magical strength in a developing ten year old boy. Arcturus had a right good laugh that day. 

I was named Heir Black. 

Friction, of course, followed. Walburga was not pleased in the least, especially since there is nothing she can do to reverse the decision. But it took a lot off of little Sirius’s shoulders so I didn’t really mind. And the less I say about Orion and Cygnus the better, poor confused blighters. Reminded me a lot of Dudley’s expression when Petunia told him he was going on a diet. Completely heartbroken he was. Mum had one of the largest smiles ever, so great day all around. 

Surprisingly enough, growing up at Grimmauld Place is a genuinely decent experience. Sure there's duties and a little family drama, but we were all allowed to be children. I’m pretty sure it had a lot to do with the fact that so much of the family’s attention was focused on me, that the rest were able to just be themselves without too much fear of repercussion. Making it a much more pleasant environment for all involved. Plus I’d never need to fear any reprisal either, even discounting the fact that I could take care of myself, mum and Arcturus would be livid had anything ever happened to me in our own home. Dorea’s presence also served to be a boon for the rest of the cousins. 

Walburga and Orion were never the most attentive parents, choosing to instead focus on each other. If I wasn’t already familiar with what Walburga sounds like when she’s riled up, from her portrait in Harry's time, I’d be terrified of the noises that come from their wing of the house. Now I just get sick. Cygnus and Druella aren’t even around that much, being the consummate socialites that they are. So it more often than not fell to my mum to raise all six of us. 

Bellatrix is two years older than me, and therefore the eldest sibling. A role which she took to with utter seriousness. I honestly thought I’d have the hardest time staying neutral towards her, more so than anyone else. Strangely though, we found ourselves gravitating towards each other quite a bit over the course of our childhood. She is bossy, overbearing, and often condescending. While at the same time exceptionally capable, due, in part to her frightening intelligence and hardworking nature, and she’s fiercely loyal and protective to those she considers her own. 

I had a tough time understanding my draw to Bellatrix, it took me until she started reaching her teenage years to figure it out and it really caught me on the back foot. Bellatrix reminded me of Hermione. Yes Bellatrix had a greater respect for power, where Hermione valued authority. Yes Bellatrix has a terrible sadistic streak, with that very particular tilt of Black family madness. But underneath all that, they both are fundamentally so incredibly alike, I couldn’t help but pick up on it subconsciously and treat Bellatrix with the same affection I’ve always had for Hermione. She must have sensed this and ended up reciprocating. Hell, by then it had also become blaringly obvious to me that a young Bellatrix posed more than a passing physical resemblance to Harry's Hermione. 

Things between us changed after my tenth birthday though. Suddenly instead of my pushy cousin, I somehow gained a staunch ally and supporter. Here is where I also realized why Bellatrix was so devoted to Voldemort, she is deeply attracted to magical power and status. Something which I found out intimately back in my fourth year at Hogwarts. I was practically robbed of my honour after a particularly gruelling dueling session. When I did point out to her that we are in fact related by blood, her response was simply:

“You are my grandfather’s sister’s son, we are barely third cousins. That’s what we purebloods like to call marriage material. Now pull down your pants before I rip them off.” Murky waters I know, but I certainly didn’t complain. 

Plus I’d always held a bit of a torch for Hermione, and in a way this helped live out that fantasy. Mercifully, Bella has been discreet with our arrangement, so I’m hopeful no one will ever find out. Except for Andromeda of course, I don’t hide things from her. Not they she ever brings it up. We sweep it under the rug like every other dark family secret.

We were born the same year, grew up in the same house, and I had all my memories of her. So needless to say, we got along like Umbridge and bigotry, which is to say very well. Andi was surprisingly perky growing up. I mean sure she had her strict moments, lmost always when I was involved in something she deemed stupid - although I think at least half my scoldings come about because I’m just not up to her standards of cleaning up after myself. Aside from that she was just all around cheerful, and equal parts caring. It was clear where Nymphadora got it from, Ted Tonks was far too relaxed a bloke to influence her that way. A proper wild child this one. 

Andromeda and I are best friends and confidants, she’s also usually the one who patches me up after I go overboard with the training. While I’m usually the one patching her up after her doomed romances. Andi really wears her heart on her sleeve. She, just like Dorea, holds a very special place in my heart.

Speaking of special, how could I possibly forget about Sirius. My new little brother. He seems to take it as a personal challenge to prove to us that he is in fact touched in the head, lest we forget. He doesn’t really involve himself too much with the adults outside of Dorea, but he does enjoy taking his liberties with the rest of the cousins. The guy named Sirius ends up being the family comic relief, ironic isn’t it? Honestly though, he can be a bit of a brat with his tendency to misbehave. He never seems to understand the appropriateness of some of his pranks and usually ends up on the wrong side of a shouting courtesy of the women in his general vicinity. But anytime I see that sweet little smile or that cheshire grin blossom on his face, I’m there right alongside him. 

Sirius’ happiness more so than anyone else’s reminds me of why I came back. It never fails to brighten my day being on the receiving end of hug from the rascal. And it means so much to me that I can be that source of love and hope for Sirius. Just the same as his estranged Godfather was for Harry, when he was a tired thirteen year old boy. 

Next up is Narcissa, who falls in the same age bracket as Sirius. I’ve turned her into something of a pet project for myself, by doing my best to curb her parents’ over eager influence on her. Being the youngest girl as well as a cute little thing with a propensity to please the expectations following her a little too much, it was easy to see why she ended up the way she did the first time around. Narcissa is the type to stuff her face with whatever shit is shoved on her plate as long as the person shoveling it is someone she admires. So I’ve strived to ensure that my mother is the one holding the shovel in this scenario. It's been working fairly well so far - so fingers crossed she doesn't turn into that vile excuse for a woman she was in Harry’s time. She's family now so I’ll make sure of that at least.

And last but certainly not least is the baby of the house. Regulus. My god that kid is just a little bundle of adorable. He’s also extremely attached to Sirius. I'm almost a decade older than the kid so my experience with him is a little limited, but he seems like a happy little chap so I’ll do my best to keep him that way.

Having a family is nice and all, but I haven't forgotten why I came back in the first place. I'm here to kill voldemort, take as much steam out of his movement as possible, and bag a few death eaters in the process. Especially that bugger who blew himself up. 

So with that in mind I began my training pretty much immediately after I realized who I was. 

My benchmark for my magical prowess has always been that battle in the ministry between Dumbledore and Tom. That level of skill, power, and knowledge is not something you easily forget. Riddle is evil and all, but the guy literally breathed out Fiendfyre and Albus just smacked it back like it was nothing. And I was meant to compete with these monsters! 

Don’t get me wrong Harry was strong and skilled in his own right, but as chagrined as I am to admit it he hadn’t reached that level at the time of his death. And despite that, he was essentially the strongest guy left in Britain once both of them died. But even after all of Harry's training as an auror and experience in the whole fight for his life career growing up as Harry, I could safely say that aside from magical power he never reached their level. 

I can afford the excuse that both of them had decades and decades on Harry but he never had that luxury as Harry, and I won't be getting it as Ara either, considering the fact that I've been chucked to right around the time Voldemort is on his first rise. So suffice it so say I've been rigorous in training myself back up and beyond that.

Harry learned loads about magic and himself as an auror. Defence being a specialty he was formidable in a fight, and with Harry's experience sneaking about throughout his life his stealth was more than up to snuff. As a consequence both my charms and transfiguration are way past adequate. Astonishingly Care of Magical Creatures was also invaluable. You won't believe the number of idiots who try to keep 4X and up beasts as house pets or guards. It’s funny once you realize that Hagrid's behaviour was actually the norm and not the exception when it came to wizards and magical beasts. 

I have a good amount of experience with healing magic as well, it’s essential to know once you start doing the more dangerous assignments and it is a seriously difficult branch of magic to learn. I will never complain about getting healed or Madame Pomfrey’s methods ever again, well at least when she's within earshot. Potions are also pretty helpful here, but really not mine or Harry's cup of tea so he was pretty useless with forensics and high level healing. Harry usually left that to his partner Daphne Greengrass. Not much to say about her to be honest, Harry had enjoyed her company fairly often but never went further, she reminded me of a Fleur Delacour that never grew up. A haughty hottie. Just in case you were wondering.

One branch of magic that Harry had to play some serious catch up with was arithmancy. Required extensively for magical crime forensics and ward breaching. So grew pretty adept with that too. 

Now generally most magic requires a wand, and given that at the time I was 6 I didn't exactly have access to one. And for all the insanity the Black's are usually credited with, even we know better than to leave a wand lying around in a house full of children. So therein lay my dilemma, I had a need to practice magic, I had a decent level of knowledge to practice with, yet no readily available way to actually do so. 

Enter wandless magical control.

I had never had the time to train myself in wandless magic as Harry, and time is key because it takes a disgusting amount of time and effort to even get the simplest of charms to work. It took me four months just to get a simple lumos going, so that's how I started, working on the most simple spells - lumos, wingardium leviosa, incendio - were the first I had any success with. Mercifully though, I found that the more I went wandless the easier it got. I quickly moved on to the more useful spells, expelliarmus, depulso and accio, protego, fumos, episkey, confringo, and the disillusionment charm, along with apparition - basically everything I considered essential for a survival and useful in a fight. I didn’t bother with anything too complicated, I decided to leave all that for hogwarts. 

Speaking wandless magic, I didn’t forget about either occlumency or legilimency. I had never, and more than likely will never master occlumency, I’m probably a little too influenced by my emotions and easily read to be effective at hiding my thoughts. Legilimency on the other hand I’m more than good at. Snape and Voldemort gave Harry more than enough practice using that. I didn’t really need to practice either, perks of remembering Harry's life. Surprisingly I retained the parselmouth abilities, thought for sure that Harry would’ve lost it after getting the horcrux removed and also dying. Guess not.

The reason wandless control required the effort it did was two fold. The first is that it requires you to become intimately aware of your magic core - which is basically this reservoir where your magic is stored and accessed from. It’s also where your magical power is measured from, I think it depends on the amount of magic you have as well as how potent or dense it is. 

Forgive me for going on a tangent, but your core is also the reason accidental magic happens when you’re young. The core of magical mass slowly fuses with a magical’s nervous system, so it sometimes has misfires as the nerves get irritated. This also explains why magic is intent based, when you really put full purpose behind a spell the magic sort of reads your mind through your nervous system and responds. What this means is that the more magic you use naturally, the better it syncs to your body. Kind of like a muscle. I’m practicing wandlessly, my magic power is growing and integrating more with me, magic becomes easier and stronger. And that's also the second reason, you’ve got to really, really train yourself hard to get any benefits from wandless magic.

So there Ara was by the age of nine, basically as capable as Harry was at age 22, all without a wand as well. I wasn’t sure whether I was amazed at my new self, or ashamed of my past self. Also, up until this point I had managed to keep all this to myself. Nobody minus Kreacher had any idea of what I could I do; Kreacher because he was the one who would pop me in and out to the Forest of Dean where I’d chosen to workout, and cover for my absences with everyone else at home. I was planning on keeping the status quo, but a lapse in my judgement forced my hand.

It was mum’s birthday and I wanted to do something special for her, so after the day’s festivities were over I’d pulled her over to my room and quietly given her my idea for a gift. I wandlessly conjured a silver brooch inlaid with tiny emeralds in front of her. It was a honeysuckle flower intertwined at the base with a lily of the valley. Mum was very fond of floriography, and I knew instantly she understood what I was saying to her. The brooch professed my love and devotion for her and a promise to return all the happiness she has ever given me. It was one of the only times I was happy to have made her cry, I don’t think she’s taken it off since.

Yes, very nice sentimental moment and all, but stupidly I never bothered to close the door all the way in my excitement. And never forget in the House of Black, there is no surface without eyes or ears. Just my luck that grandmother Melania was curious and decided to snoop. Oh, she didn’t cause a scene or anything, but I knew I’d been sniffed out when I was called into her parlour the very next day with a worried looking Kreacher wringing his pillow case next to her and grandfather Arcturus’ seat. Elves had to follow the hierarchy after all, no secrets can be kept from the head of house. 

At the time I was bloody worried, and not a little paranoid that they’d somehow figure out I was a time travelling Potter who struck a deal with death. Turns out they were just impressed with me and wanted to help get a jump start on my education - otherwise known as the rational response for this scenario. Don’t judge me, the guy who trained Harry in the auror offices was one of Moody’s ex-proteges. Anyway, I was given a wand and full access to the Black family library, dark curses and all. 

Grandma Melania herself crafted my wand for me. Turns out she’d made everyone’s wands after she’d married into the family. Thirteen and three quarter inches, Larchwood with Wampus hair core. A wand for those with high power and control, apparently a very desirable and just as rare wood, that will only respond to those it deems worthy and with rare talents - so basically if you’re strong you got it’s power and loyalty. It has the added advantage that it’s one of the few woods out there that can handle as much power as you can put out. The wampus hair core showed that I have the heart of a warrior and would excel with battle magic, which just so happens to be a specialty of the Black family. Arcturus probably soiled himself in excitement. But I’ve got to give it to grandmother Melania, the wand fit me better than even Harry’s old one. The wand really sped up my training regimen, and I sped through the library looking for the most exciting spells. I’m a Black now - there has to be a certain level of showmanship in my wandwork for it to be deemed acceptable. 

I picked up a few favourites: a variation on incarcerous that uses chains and shackles instead of rope -  called captivatus - harder to break and much more painful. Perfringo the bone shatter curse, amputo the amputation curse, both very useful for taking your opponent out of a fight. Degravo brings down overwhelming pressure on top of an area, and consumo the devouring curse, which basically eats away at anything in the vicinity, both meant to fight off overwhelming numbers. I even managed to learn a couple of Riddle’s favourite spells, first was the lightning bolt spell fulmen, and more importantly I found notes on how to achieve magical flight - no brooms required. It’s unfinished, but Riddle managed it so I shall as well. I still haven’t, but believe me, I will. 

Now since Arcturus knew what magic I excelled at, he was quick in inserting himself as my dueling partner. He also very quickly found out how outmatched he was becoming and decided to call in the entire family to help out. Unsurprisingly all the older Blacks were very good fighters, and what they lacked in skill they more than made up in ruthlessness - Walburga especially did her damndest to try and turn me into a puddle of oozing flesh. Hey, had to practice my new knowledge somehow.

Eventually everyone, children included, got in on the fun. Attempting to kill each other in a duel officially became a Black family bonding exercise. And there was always a tasty meal afterwards. The constant fighting and the auror level physical training I encouraged everyone to go through really bulked us up. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that by the time any of the Black children started Hogwarts, they’d be able to take on low level aurors or death eaters in a straight up fight. 

Now that I’ve mentioned Hogwarts, that’s where I am right now. It's September 1st 1970 and I’ve just begun my 5th year here. I’m sat next to the Andi and the rest of my housemates at the Slytherin table. Yeah, Slytherin this time around, decided to listen to the Hat, plus it’s the best place for me to be considering what I’ve got to accomplish but we’ll come back to that afterwards. I actually better start paying attention to the sorting before I piss someone off - namely Bella. 

“Ouch!” I got pinched, guess Andi got to me first.

“Pay attention Ara, It’s almost Cissy’s turn. Bella’s cross enough with you as it is, hurry up and pull your head from between your cheeks before she decides to actually stuff it down there, and I promise I won’t be the one fixing that for you.” Ah. Seems I’ve received a scolding because I decided to fill you in on the story so far. Hold on, let me address this.

“You shall not speak to me this way Andromeda, I am your head of house. Hold your tongue before I pull it out.” There, that’ll set her straight.

“Oh shove it Ara.” There we go, she’s back to smiling now. Alright, I actually better take notice now. I’ll fill you in on the rest later.

“Black, Narcissa!”


	2. Power

“Black, Narcissa!” a younger and much less stressed McGonagall bellowed out. She actually looks so youthful; I suspect it has less to do with the war and more to do with a select few students. What the hell had the marauders and the Weasley twins done to the poor woman?

Narcissa tried her best to look as controlled and calm as possible, but she really couldn’t hide her nervousness from the people she grew up with. As she sat down on the stool, she surreptitiously took a quick peek towards us before the hat was plonked on her head. Guess she’s made her mind up to where she wants to go.

“Slytherin!” Yeah, the hat wants what the heart wants. Narcissa practically ran her way down towards the table and quite contentedly squeezed in next to Bellatrix, who put a comforting hand on her sister’s golden hair and ran it through once before resting it on her shoulders. The both of them looked over to Andi and I. I gave Bella an approving nod, she lifted her nose in the air higher than it already was and a small smile threatened to show on her face. Clearly she’s happy that I’m happy with her, Bella is so easy to read, I guarantee she will be as terrible at occlumency as I am. I gave a little wink to Narcissa, she just dipped her head in embarrassment and returned a smile to Andi who smiled as sweetly - at least as much as we were want to do in public, at the both of them.

“Black, Sirius!” Ah, here we go. Just look at the little bugger strutting his way up the podium. He’s got his chest out and everything, what an absolute tosser.

“Oh for pity’s sake!” Andi hissed out as she brought her hand up to cover her embarrassment with Sirius. I had to laugh at that.

“Gryffindor!” pin drop silence. Nice Sirius nice, your sorting is just as awkward as Harry’s was, congratulations. Sirius’ surprise was only overshadowed at old Sluggy’s confusion. Sorry Horace, guess you’re never going to complete that collection.

“Ouch! Blimey Andi!” she’d clutched my arm under the table and dug her nails in. Oh dear, she’s looking extremely worried, so are Bella and Narcissa for that matter.

“Ara - Sirius - he” she hurriedly whispered.

“Stop blabbering Andromeda, I told you this might happen. Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out.” I took her hand in mine and managed to get her claws to stop digging into my flesh. She kept holding onto my hand though, doing her best to break every bone in it.

Sirius stood a little stunned, McGonagall pulled off the hat and gently gestured towards her house’s table for him. Giving a small nod, he started making his way down and took an uneasy glance towards us. Bellatrix got her wits back about her, gave Sirius a reassuring nod and started clapping loudly. This seems to snap everyone out of their shock as they quietly followed suit. I’m going to have to do something really nice for Bella because of this. Sirius stole a look my way, I blew him a nice little kiss. This quelled whatever worry he had, beaming a wide grin at us he puffed his chest out again and marched down the table and sat at an empty spot.

“Don’t encourage him Ara, he’s making a fool of himself!” Andi clenched my hand tighter still.

“Andi, he needs no encouragement at all to turn himself into a spectacle. Also, if you’re so keen on breaking my bones, just use the curse next time. There’s no reason whatsoever to put me through this torture.” Oh no, she’s glaring again.

“This is your fault; you deserve all this pain. Now shut up and comfort me already.”

“Fine, fine, but please stop gripping so hard, I promise you something snapped in my hand earlier.” I ran my thumb over the back of her hand and she finally loosened her death grip a little. If she leaned a little closer into me, I didn’t bother mentioning it.

The sorting went on, I didn’t catch too many familiar names, but did my part in welcoming all the fresh faced firsties. That is until it came to the person I was possibly looking forward to the most.

“Evans, Lily!” wow, that used to be my mum. The hat took a little bit of time with her.

“Gryffindor!” she’s got a really nice smile. Thanking McGonagall she walked down to where the rest of the first years had gathered, she seemed a little unsure where to sit until Sirius scooted over and pointed at the seat next to him. Giving him a quick thanks she sat and smiled at him. Sirius, I’m going to kiss you for real now. 

Remus came soon after her, poor guy was so terrified of being here. He kept glancing towards Dumbledore the entire time looking for reassurance. If he had a tail right now, it’d be tucked so far down he’d be tickling his belly button with it. He, as before, got sorted to Gryffindor. Bless my old mum’s heart she pulled the scared bloke down next to her and practically forced him to calm down a little. 

The P’s started coming in, Pettigrew was sorted to the Lions as well and sat with the other first years. I’m going to make sure that little prick ends up no where near the rest. I’m not going to actively have him shunned or anything, just keep the little rat on the perimeter, it would be my fault alone if I let him be in a position to betray everyone again. 

Old dad was next. He too decided to strut. Sirius and he really were made for each other. When James sat down next to Sirius, it was essentially love at first sight. If Walburga were here right now she’d have probably strangled him for being Gryffindor and, in her mind, gay. 

The S’s were next, I had tagged Snape during Lily’s sorting, he was immediately downtrodden when she went to Gryffindor. He clearly knew that wasn’t going to be his house.

“Skeeter, Rita!” wait what? No way. 

“Slytherin!” Oh no fucking way! I had no idea the little insect shared the same year as Harry’s parents. And, she’s in my house now too. I’m a prefect, I’ve got a responsibility to look after the bloody beetle now. Well no thank you, Andi can handle her. I still haven’t forgiven her for the shit she pulled with the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and of course all the filth she published with Fudge’s help in fifth year. I’ll show you both disturbed and dangerous. 

Oh, missed Snape’s sorting. Slytherin of course. Just look at him, looking at Lily all forlorned, he’s been this pathetic his whole life it seems. He didn’t grow into what he was, he was already there, albeit with a lot less resentment and anger though. But not to worry, I’m sure he’ll get there and start cursing the Potter name before you can say death eater.

I know Dumbledore wanted Harry to forgive Snape, and help him understand why Snape had done the things he did. But honestly I think Harry hated him more after the little pensieve adventure. Whatever, we won’t have problems as long as he keeps the hell away from me. I mean no wonder Slytherin has such a shit reputation, when you get people like Skeeter and Snape sorted into it. Literally two of the most venomous people Harry ever had the displeasure of knowing. 

“Now that the sorting has reached it’s end, I welcome the first years and welcome back all others to the beginning of a new year at Hogwarts. Please enjoy the feast prepared for us, and look forward to all the learning yet to be had. Now without further ado, Tinsel, Peach, Hubbly & Bubbly.” Dumbledore spread his arms as the food appeared. 

He does this every year, calls out four random words and the food comes. In Harry’s timeline, he’d only done it once during the first year, but now he’s done it every year since I’ve joined. They’re the names of the house elves serving the tables. Cheeky old codger likes to give the image it’s his conjuring. He’s not overtly stating it, that’s not his style. No, he just lets the little children's imagination run wild, and lets them come to their own conclusions. 

You ever heard the phrase ‘Don’t bite the hand that feeds you’?

The feast as always was delicious, no-one makes a treacle tart like a Hogwarts house elf. More importantly however, Andromeda finally left my hand so she could eat. As much as I adore Poppy, I’d rather not visit her at least until my first Quidditch game or duelling session. Dinner went on until we were finally released to our duties of guiding the first years to their dorms. Andi and I being the newly appointed fifth year prefects had that privilege tonight. 

Right as everyone had begun leaving the great hall, Sirius scuttled over towards us. “Ara! You’re not sore about me being Gryffindor are you?” He looked uncharacteristically serious and a little anxious as he asked the rest of the Black family this. We were all in Slytherin, while he was the sole Lion after all. I just sighed lightly and patted him on the head.

“Sirius I’ve known you’d be Gryffindor the day your mother threatened to hex your arse off and you in response pulled down your trousers and stuck out your boney bum to her. That, is both bravery and stupidity, all hallmarks of a Gryffindor. And need I remind you that I’ve already pre-empted this conversation with the house, so you’ve nothing to fret about. Just write your parents a letter and let me handle the rest.”

He visibly deflated in relief. “Don’t worry Siri, we’re all here, no matter how irritating you are.” C’mon Andi give the kid a break.

“Alright now off with you, you mongrel. Don’t keep your little strays waiting any longer.” Bellatrix pointed towards Lily, Remus, and of course James, waiting on him. Sirius turned back towards the four of us, gave a searching look, and satisfied with what he saw, nodded and rushed back to his new friends.

“You’ve got a job you two” Bellatrix told Andi and I. “Best not keep the young ones waiting.” She said as she went her own way back to the Slytherin dorms. 

Now that we were at the dungeons, it was time for the meat of the matter. Slytherin initiation. 

Gryffindor doesn’t have this, I’m sure Ravenclaw doesn’t either - being the house of the reclusive academics. Hufflepuff might have their own version with rainbows and unicorns, but Slytherin took setting ground rules very seriously. You don’t just join Slytherin, you must earn your place. 

As Andi, I, and the new kids approached the wall that hid the entrance, I hissed out the password in parseltongue. Completely unnecessary on my part, but always good for a laugh, especially when they jump in surprise. Slughorn encouraged me to do this after the first time he caught me trying to terrify one of the Slug Club party guests. 

We entered to find, as with every year, all the furniture in the room pushed back to the walls and all the current residents either alongside or on the furniture. Creating a large empty space for the first years to come and display themselves. Slughorn, was facing the fireplace, his back turned towards everyone. He was flanked by Bellatrix and Lucius Malfoy on either side. Both were staring daggers at the fresh meat. The entire common room was bathed in a soft green glow coming from the Black Lake’s water. All very ominous, all very scary - for the first years at least. 

Andromeda and I took our leave from them and joined the rest of the house on the sidelines. Leaving the first years to awkwardly shuffle closer together and anxiously glance around the less than welcoming faces surrounding them.

“Slytherin is now your house my children, and as with any house, those living under the same roof as you are all family.” Slughorn started his speech, still looking at the fire, not bothering to turn around. Does every Slytherin have to be so damn dramatic all the time?

“In a family we all strive to care for each other, help nurture one another, and above all protect ourselves. Feel free to make your friends and enemies outside these halls, but always remember that family comes first. We all know that in a home there is a hierarchy to be followed, and it is no different here.” We’ve all heard this speech before, but most were still paying rapt attention. 

“At the top of this hierarchy is me, Professor Horace Slughorn, potions master and head of Slytherin house. When at hogwarts I am your father. You answer to me first and foremost, if you cause trouble or if you are in trouble, you will always answer to me first. Not the Headmaster, neither the Deputy nor any of the other Professors. Me. Standing beside me are the heads of the Slytherin council and the next in the hierarchy. Bellatrix Black and Lucius Malfoy. They are in charge of each and every prefect here, they are in charge of each and everyone one of you from this point on. I shall now secede the floor to them. Council if you please.” And with that Sluggy took his leave and joined me on the side with the rest of the students.

“Charming introduction as always Professor.” I whispered as he got comfortable on the plush green wingback in front of me.

“Ah! Ara my boy! Thank you for your kind words, and thank you for bringing the little ones unharmed. With your silver tongue I imagine it was rather enjoyable for them coming in.” chuckling quietly he looked up at me with a questioning eye.

“Yes professor, they certainly jumped for joy… at least I hope it was joy, wouldn’t be becoming of me going around scaring eleven year olds.” I put my hand on his left shoulder and gestured back to the center with my chin, the show was restarting.

“Well hello ickle firsties, once again welcome to Slytherin house.” Oh starting right off with the baby voice. 

“Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Bellatrix Black. Henceforth known as, your new big sister.” quick switch to gentle tone. She suddenly shifted and wrenched a first year girl by the collar of her robes and dragged her back to the front. She kept a firm grip on the frightened little girls robes as she gently began running a soothing hand through her hair. Bella’s bringing her full arsenal out today.

“And as your big sister it’s my job to make sure that you’re all doing your best in classes and getting the marks we expect of you, to make sure that no one is being bullied, to make sure that you keep Slytherin’s image and keep all your mischief hidden or if all else within these commons. And most importantly to make sure that you do not embarrass this house!” Oh she’s going in for the kill, her countenance switches so quickly. Suddenly Bellatrix painfully grabs a handful of the girl's hair and yanks her head to the side eliciting a pained squeal. Bellatrix leans in and gently strokes her cheek with the first years’, eyes keeping contact with the rest of the initiates, as she continued with her hostile tone.

“Because I promise you, should I feel you deserve it, my punishments will be most uncomfortable.” She quickly let go of the girl who immediately fell to the floor on her hands and knees, straining to hold back her tears. All this might seem a little harsh, but it’s necessary to set boundaries this early, give these little demons an inch and they’ll run the whole quidditch field. And Bellatrix is just a master class at this sort of delivery. I’ve seen her do the mood and tone switch a hundred times, but it still sends chills down my spine. 

“Are we all understood? Good!” and back to the baby voice. Just fucking phenomenal. Oh! And she’s cackling now, full on, head thrown back and top of her lungs. Any villain would be green with envy. If I could clap without ruining the mood Bellatrix, I’d be giving you standing ovation for this. Just a masterclass of threatening children. 

“Oh my, Ms. Black is delightfully terrifying is she not?” Whispered Slughorn.

“You’ve no idea Professor.” I responded.

“Ok Lucy dear your turn, no need to keep your subjects waiting.” Nicely done, got a parting shot on Lucius as well. He just sneered at her as they walked past each other.

“I am Lucius Malfoy. Head of Slytherin council. You will do as I say, and will stick to your assigned stations in life. Be very aware of your worth in our world, and do not overstep your bounds.” Lucius gave his practiced leer to the youngsters, before turning around and walking back.

Sluggy’s face soured a bit at his address. “Mr. Malfoy seems to disagree with my sentiment of family.”

“Yes he seems quite taken with the rising blood purity dogma as of late. Especially after he made acquaintances last summer with an old school chum of his father’s. I believe you know of him too professor.” Slughorn stiffened under my hand. He knew who I was talking about. 

“If you’d like professor, I could knock him down a few rungs on the ladder. He’s been grating my nerves since last year, and I’d have done it regardless, but I feel a more public humiliation is in order don’t you?” Slughorn quickly grasped my hand on his shoulder and turned a worried look in my direction. What is it with the hand holding today? 

“This friend of Mr. Malfoy is a dangerous foe to have Ara, please think it through before you decide on any course of action pertaining to anybody in Mr. Malfoy’s corner.” See this right here is why I like Sluggy, despite the fact that he loves networking like no other, he wholeheartedly cares about us. That’s more than I can say for most people I’ve had experience with outside the family. And don’t even get me started on Harry’s life.

“Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m dealing with. There’s no Riddle Ara Black can’t solve professor.” I gave his stunned face a wink and walked forward and stood in between the council and the first years. All eyes on me now.

“Quite the … inspiring speech Lucius. Any other tidbits of wisdom? Or are you finished spilling your tripe?”  

“Black! Return to your hole before I force you back there.”

“Come now Malfoy, there’s no need for that. It’s just a simple question. Are you, or are you not done vomiting your bullshit?” Ooh, he’s cross with me now. Wands out lads.

“Bloody well understand who you dare talk down to Black, lest you realize how far the fall is.” Uh oh, seems he’s ready to finish me off if the green light on the tip of his wand is any indication. 

I gave a quick nod to Bellatrix, she got the hint. Rushing forward she quickly grabbed the still sitting first year and pulled her into her lap. I just wanted the girl out of the way, not for her to continue suffering under Bella’s idea of skinship. Poor kid can’t seem to catch a break. “Well aren’t you ickle babies lucky. Dinner and a show. Professor Slughorn, I believe that Ara has decided to challenge Malfoy for his seat at the head of the council yes?” Bellatrix announced for the benefit of the crowd.

“Y-yes… quite. Very well, let us activate the dueling wards. Come everybody take a nice step back towards your nearest wall. Duelers call in your seconds.” Slughorn corraled everyone and readied the stage.

“Antonin Dolohov” Lucius commanded the 6th year. Good choice, he's powerful, skilled, and lightning quick. But best of all I’ve been looking for any opportunity to raze the bastard since I remembered he was the arsehole who almost killed Hermione at the ministry. 

“Hmm, Casper Gamp” I chose after a momen't deliberation. He’s a younger quidditch teammate. Chaser.

“WHAT!” the little third year screeched out. I motioned him over and ducked over him to quietly whisper.

“Listen don’t worry, I know you can cast a protego by now. I'll conjure a brick wall for you, cast the shield and huddle down for the fight. I just need someone to keep out of my way while I fight these two. You think you can do that for me?” I explained my plan.

“Uh… sure. You certain you don’t want any help for this though? They aren’t exactly pushovers. Didn't Dolohov win a dueling tournament or something? Andromeda looks ready to go.” He pointed to someone over my shoulder. I looked back and saw a thoroughly pissed Andi. 

Shite. Forgot about her. Well too late now.

“Yeah, she’d probably help Malfoy at this point. Just relax and leave it to me.” He nodded and got in position behind me. Neither Dolohov nor Malfoy were pleased at my choice of second, they know I intend to fight them by myself. 

The wards went up and surrounded the four of us inside a transparent cube. “Very well gentlemen, Ara Black is officially challenging Lucius Malfoy for his seat as head representative of the Slytherin council. You may now commence!” Slughorn announced the start of the fight.

Dolohov immediately took charge and fired off a curse, Lucius receded into the back and shot off his own. I didn't take the time to figure out what they were. In one smooth motion I ducked under Dolohov’s curse, swiped my wand to conjure the wall for Casper, and ended the swipe by batting off Malfoy’s hex with the tip of my wand. Casper wasted no time and dove behind the wall, cast his shield and prepared to wait out the fight.

With the introductions finished, we began taking our positions. Lucius stood behind and away from Antonin, arms raised and wand pointed out in his dueling stance. Dolohov was right up front, knees bent and body hunched over slightly, wand in his left hand pointed directly at me. This was a traditional technique for fighting with a partner, the person in the rear was in charge of distracting the opponent and shielding, the person up ahead was the main fighter. 

I stood with my wand side shoulder facing them, shrinking myself as a target. Lucius impatiently cast an exploding hex, I shielded. As it impacted, a cutting curse courtesy of Dolohov sailed towards my knee caps. I hopped over and twisted to my left as another blasting curse hit where I’d landed. The salvo continued like this for a while as both older boys alternated firing powerful curses at me non-stop in an effort to keep me occupied. I didn’t bother shielding after the first rally, I simply dodged or swatted any I couldn’t out of my way.  

While I was sort of hopping around, trying not to get cursed by anything, the both of them were taking steps forward with each spell fired. Advancing up the field to try and limit room for me to act, and box me in between their wands and the wards at my back. There’s a reason why these two will become inner circle death eaters, they are very capable in a fight. And judging by the smirks on their faces they are certainly aware of their proficiency. I almost feel a little bad slapping those grins off. 

Using their own tactics against them sounds like a good idea, I cast a nice, large and powerful shield in front of me and started taking quicks steps forward. All their curses kept bouncing off forcing them to keep retreating, unless they wanted to be hit with ricochets of their own spells. In one fell swoop, I’d turned our positions around. 

Dolohov did not like this one bit and decided to dispense with the schoolyard spells. He conjured a flame whip and started waving that thing around with abandon. Lucius caught on quick and cast a continuous stream dancing flame hexes, very fast with great potential for damage - really good tactic. I matched each of the flames with low powered banishers, dispelling them before they reached me, this also gave me space enough to avoid the flame whip. 

The lack of any connecting curses really got on Dolohov’s nerves, so he decided to change focus from me to Gamp hiding behind the wall. Roaring in anger he unleashed a full powered incendio, dousing the wall in a sea of fire. Casper’s shield wasn't holding up too well either. 

“ARA HELP!” Casper, once again, screeched at full volume.

Dolohov's vinidictive expression fell back on me as he taunted “What’s wrong Black? Is the sound of Gamp burning alive bothering you?” Oh is that how you want to play it Dolohov? Alright I’ll bite. I launched another shield to stall Malfoy’s assault as I ran back to the wall. 

Without preamble or fanfare, I simply pointed my wand in his direction and incanted “Fulmen!” I had to say this one aloud, can’t have people thinking I can cast one of the toughest dark art spells with practiced ease, it would bring too much attention; more so than being able to just use it at all at least. Instantly a blinding flash of lightning arched out of my wand and fanned out the width of the dueling space. Dolohov and Malfoy both were smart to drop any offensive and shield themselves, the results of being hit by this spell are not pretty. 

Taking advantage of their cowering, I tossed an alarte ascendare at Dolohov’s feet. The same useless little jinx that Lockhart used on the snake back in Harry’s second year. Dolohov was sent arse over tea kettle up in the air. Keeping up the momentum I chained in a captivatus and cocooned him in chains, before ending him with a weak degravo slamming him down hard to the floor with a nice meaty thump.

Yeah. He’s finished.

Lucius finally popped up from behind his protego, and witnessed his friend and partner's mangled heap on the floor. 

“Don’t worry Lucy, he’s not anywhere near dead, but it might be a while before Pomphrey clears him for solid foods." God I love taunting Malfoys, they always have the best expressions. And sure enough, Lucius’ face contorted into the most hateful scowl he could pull off. Abandoning any thought of defence, Lucius pulled back his arm and in an enraged shout launched a bright pink curse. The flesh rotting curse, looks like it’s time to end this. And as much as I’d like to deflect this and just disarm him, the whole point of the duel was to knock him off his hippogriff, so something a little flashy is more appropriate. 

Quick as I could shouted and cas "Perfringo!" the bone shattering curse, I do have to speak his language to get through to him after all. The two spells connected in the center, and a battle of magical wills began; sort of like the priori incantatem effect but without the whole golden phoenix cage and ghosts popping out. Just a pure contest of magical power. I’d purposely said the name of the spell, so Lucius would know exactly what he's facing, and judging by his new frightened expression I’m confident he’s got the idea.

So far I’d just held my magic in place, not forcing or retreating so the spell clash was kept where it was. Lucius however, was visibly struggling. He wasn’t going to be able to keep this up for much longer. Encouraging my power a little, I allowed it the connection to flow and advance in Malfoy’s direction. He was on his knees now, pointing his wand as hard as he could. Really wasn’t helping him any.

“Black! Stop this!” Oh look, he’s panicking. I brought my free hand up to my ear and leaned my head in his direction a little.

“I’m sorry Lucius, I don’t think I heard you properly over your whimpering. Are you telling me you surrender, and abdicate the head of the council to me?” Just twisting the knife.

“YES I FORFEIT! Now stop your fucking spell already!” I accepted his resignation with a nod and flicked my wand so that the spell would miss his carefully combed hair and sail over to the ward behind him with a shattering crack. Oh woops, and not a minute too soon. I’d put a little too much into that, it’s managed to crack the ward, that would have killed him for sure. Even mum would’ve had my hide if I killed him. Lucius just stared at me in abject shock and horror, a look mirrored by almost everyone else in the room as the wards were collapsed.

Oh bollocks! Thats right, they were all probably just expecting a few stunners and disarmers, not the full on duel to the death we essentially had. Well that’s what you get when you put two of Voldemort's favourite new recruits against someone as incredible as me. You get you’re galleon’s worth. Well at least Casper seems happy to not have died, he’s laid flat out on the ground behind the chared remains of my wall. 

“Looks like Slytherin has a new big brother, c’mon everybody welcome your new head of council Ara Black.” Cue excited cackle. Bellatrix, you cut through tension in a room like no other, I’m really looking forward to rewarding you now. As everyone joined the ceremony I took my bow as Slughorn approached us. 

“Yes splendid, now everybody back up to your rooms. It’s been a busy day for all and I feel it’s time we all retired for the evening.” The spectators began shuffling as they excitedly discussed what just happened and the subsequent ramifications that will inevitably follow. Sometimes I wish they were a little more like Gryffindors, and were just excited that they got to see three people almost kill themselves. 

As the crowd thinned out Slughorn crept even closer to us. “Lucius, please do escort young Antonin to the medical wing and give Poppy dear my regards. Have her take a look at yourself as well, no harm. And despite my displeasure at your conduct I would like to congratulate you on a well fought match.” Malfoy just gave a curt but respectful nod as he left with a levitating Dolohov next to him, but not without his patented baleful glare aimed at Bellatrix as she waved him out the door. 

“It seems, Mr. Black, that you have been holding back your talents from me.” And as predicted Sluggy’s hooked.

“Well professor, then I’d say it’d be prudent if we spent a little time together. That way you can prick my brains about anything you want.” Slughorn gave me a small smile and nodded.

“That sounds like a smashing idea. But I think I’ll retreat for tonight, you have already provided me enough to ponder on. Frankly I’ve had two Blacks terrify me today already, so I’d very much like to be spared a third demonstration of your family’s particular flavour of terror. If you’ll excuse me.” he said scurrying away.

Bellatrix and I bid him a goodnight and turned around to find a livid Andromeda staring me down. I’m honestly too tired to deal with this. Thinking quick, I shoved Bella onto her path, toppling them both over and made a dash for my room. 

“ARA GET BACK HERE!” Success. Bellatrix I promise you that reward will be worth it. Oh they’ll chew me to shreds in the morning, but that's tomorrow, and all I want to do for what's left today is get to bed. Entering my private suite - prefects in Slytherin get their own rooms, with baths attached - I was once more ambushed by a woman. At least this one doesn’t seem cross with me, so I might as well hear her out.

“Alessandra, as nice as you are to gaze at, what exactly are you doing in my room?” Alessandra Zabini. 6th year, and a very hot Italian number.

“Well Ara, I thought that I might take some time to congratulate you on your new appointment.” She stood up from my bed leaving an imprint of her very shapely bottom on my sheets. She slowly stepped into my space and began running her hands over my chest.

“And while I’m here I thought I’d also ask you for a favour.” She whispered that last part in my ear and had herself a nibble. Right, this is happening.

“I’ll give you that favour on one condition Zabini” 

“Hm?” She just moaned questioningly without taking her lips of my neck, slowly starting to divest my of my clothes.

“You keep up that accent of yours for me.” She just giggled, and continued lavishing me with her attention. Guess I know what I’m doing for the rest of the night. I do so love a girl who can roll her r’s.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m making my way down to the infirmary. I’d been called in during breakfast by fourth year Gryffindor messenger boy Frank Longbottom, on Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall's behalf. I use that specific title, because that’s exactly who I’m planning on meeting. I’m guessing this has to do with last night's duel. Just a hunch.

And as much as I wish I was heading down for this alone - I do have plans for this meeting aside from getting yelled at as it happens - Andromeda wasn’t having any of it. The entire trip down she’d chastised me on my behaviour the previous evening, and what she has in store for me should I pull something like it again. Keep in mind, this is after she spent the majority of breakfast lecturing me on what I did and why it was wrong. Seeing as I needed her help for this conversation I had no choice but to listen.

Here, finally!

“Mr. Black explain yourself!” The sound of another woman peeved at me. Those two seconds of silence in between were pure bliss. 

“Good morning headmistress, how can I help you?” I replied with a smile. She simply stared at me thin lipped and barely suppressed anger, pointing at the frail form of Antonin Dolohov tucked into his cot. I took a minute to examine him seriously.

“Well headmistress, I’m no expert, but it looks to me as if, Dolohov here has had a good number of his bones fractured, it's almost as of he was flattened somehow. You really should send him to a proper healer professor, I’m not nearly competent enough to treat him.” Andromeda very loudly slapped her forehead in frustration. 

“I’m very well aware of his condition, thank you Mr. Black! What I meant was, why have you put him in his current condition?” Right, better stop fooling around, she’s none too happy about this and clearly wants a justifiable explanation. Plus, I need to ask her for a favour, so best not ruin my chances of getting that fulfilled.

“Lets call it retribution for trying to roast a third year alive in front of the rest of the house shall we? I’m sure professor Slughorn and the rest of Slytherin would corroborate the events should you want to ask them.” She reared back to fire another set of questions, before quickly deflating and letting out a tired sigh. 

“Very well, please do try to control yourself for next time, as I’m sure there will be a next time.” I gave her another smile and shifted my focus behind her to the new arrival.

“Should I be preparing for the arrival of a burn victim then Ara?” Ah Poppy Pomphrey, easily in Harry’s and mine top five favourite staff, right up there with Hagrid. 

“Hello Poppy! I hope your summer was restful. And no, everyone else is fine.” Giving me a resigned smile she turned to Antonin and got to checking him through.

“With you around Mr. Black, I do my best to get as much rest during the summer before your inevitable arrival in my domain.” I laughed and turned back to McGonagall, feigning a surprised expression, I clasped my hands behind my back and signalled for Andi to help me out. Time to get the main course underway.

“Oh! Deputy headmistress McGonagall! What a coincidence running into you here, I was just about to go looking for you.” This is a pre-marauders Minerva, she’s not got enough experience hiding her irritation just yet, and it shows.

“I was the one who called you here Mr. Black.” Those are some thin lips there Minerva.

“Honestly Ara, must you bother everybody you come across? Just leave her alone! I’m sure she’s much too busy to hear your plans to reintroduce wizarding heritage events to Hogwarts.” And Andromeda intercepts the quaffle.

“Well why not? All I’m thinking of is a couple of old festival type ceremonies, maybe a few student lead classes to talk about them.” 

“Why would anybody be interested in that? All the muggleborns and more than a few half-bloods already consider those of us who grew up in magical communities antiquated savages.” She’s flying at manic speeds towards the rings and lines up her shot.

“And anyway it’s not like it's ours or the school's responsibilities to share and educate all these immigrants in our culture. If they fail to integrate its their own fault.” She shoots, she scores! What an absolute scorcher. McGonagall looks flummoxed, angered, understanding, and reflective all at the same time. I may be a parselmouth, but I’ve got nothing on Andi’s tongue when she’s trying to prove a point.

“I… I see what you’re trying to do Mr. and Ms. Black. If you are serious about your proposal, I would request a formal submission and discussion so that I may have a clear picture as to what you would want to achieve. I myself am not against anything, and do confess am intrigued as to what you may want to have us do. At the very least you’re reasoning is sound so I am inclined to at least listen.”

“Excellent professor! I believe we have you last for transfiguration on Thursday. Let's have tea and biscuits after. Goodbye professor have a nice day!” I grabbed Andi, and ran us out of there before she changes her mind.

“That went better than expected, how you manage to irk someone, but still get a favour out of them I’ll never understand.”

“Well, most people don't have a secret weapon named Andromeda Black. It’s the weekend by the way, wanna hang out?”

“Not today, I’ve plans with Pandora. Why don’t you join us, I’m sure she’d love to have you.”

“Er… maybe some other time... ”

“Why are you so awkward around her? You know wht? Nevermind! I have to run, I’m going to be late. You can sort out your Pandora issues all on your own today. Bye!” Phew, she’s gone. She has way too much energy for the morning. Speaking of, I guess I’ll head back to my room. I wonder if Alessandra’s up yet? I sure am.


	3. Dark Fantasy

The collective staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had, as with every year at this time, congregated within the staff meeting quarters. The room was a cozy sunroom on the ground floor of the castle, a single wall had been substituted with a large window going from ceiling to floor, providing a view of the sprawling green fields leading to the quidditch pitch and stands. The furniture also reflected the warm and inviting atmosphere, comfy overstuffed chairs, sofas, and settees of varying colours and designs, punctuated by a medley of tables and stands. The cold stone flooring almost completely hidden by the many ornamental rugs draped everywhere. A large elaborate chandelier hung from the ceiling with lit ever-burning candles covered by untarnished lamp glass coverings, giving the whole room a dim gold glow. 

The majority of the attending staff lounged around the room, catching each other up on their summer excursions, research findings, political debates, even the ongoing school gossip was avidly passed around. Dumbledore, casually sat on a large, plush, velvet, high back armchair. His favourite seat for the last two and a half decades or so, ever since he discovered and usurped it from dear departed Galatea Merrythought. A bronze goblet with his half finished drink, iced lemon tea, resting firmly in his grip. 

He always looked forward to the start of year meetings, every year after the first month of school had finished, all the teachers would gather together to discuss anything of even minor import. It gave Albus, and certainly the rest, the opportunity to gauge overall student performance and satisfaction. Important decisions were made here: who was to be next prefect, who was next to take on the mantle for the new quidditch captaincies, what were the odds on the new teams, who were the students to look out for scholastic achievement. The many dynamics between houses, years, and even individual students were oft brought up as points of discussion.

For Dumbledore this room served as a model for how the wizarding world at large functioned and the issues they were concerned with. It was akin to that quaint contraptions muggles used to judge how ill they were; a thermotither perhaps? In other words, a measure for the current societal temperature. And from what Albus had been seeing for the past two to three years, a fever seemed to be slowly creeping up.

Tensions had been escalating recently. There had been significant… belligerence being expressed from the more ‘traditional’ faction in the Wizengamot, and the same behaviour has been demonstrated by their younger representatives at Hogwarts. 

It wasn’t anything too blatant, but the undercurrent was apparent to those who cared to pay attention. Attempts at laws restricting rights for those not in the traditionalist corner, muggleborn presence and rights in particular were becoming a strong point of contention. There were also the alarming occurrences of public disturbances caused by dissatisfied young purebloods getting into arguments with their half-blood and muggleborn peers, often devolving into violent confrontations with wands and harmful curses being so carelessly bandied about. 

The auror department had been both busy and ineffectual in their responses to these exchanges.

This climate had also been mirrored within Hogwarts, instances of bullying, the occasional duel between classes. Suffice it to say both dear Poppy and Argus had their hands full as of late.

Surprisingly however, the beginning of this year proved to be a lot less troubling in that aspect. Since the semester had commenced there had been fewer instances of those sorts of situations arising, it was telling from Poppy’s more relaxed demeanor, fewer serious injuries to deal with as well. 

And more so than anything Albus wanted to figure out exactly why this was, he was expecting it to go the other way. It was a rare thing for his predictions to be disproved, and it was not a welcome feeling to not be in the know. He was in the highest reaches of power and influence, so anything that he was not aware of was worrying. Therefore, to ease said worry it was time to begin the meeting proper. 

Setting aside his emptied goblet on the table adjacent to his chair, Dumbledore stood up, walked forward to the center of the room, crossed his fingers in front of himself as his arms hung relaxed. Putting on a gentle smile, he waited for the din of the room to settle, making eye contact with each member of faculty as they all gave him their attention. 

“Good evening dear friends. I trust everyone here has had an eventful return this term, and would appreciate the opportunity to continue their own fascinating conversations. However, I do feel it best to proceed with our major announcements, so that they may be set aside and we are able to return to mingling. So please if anybody has something to share, we welcome you.” Kind smile in place, Albus stayed in place as he waited for anyone to come up. 

Silvanus Kettleburn decided to kick things off; ironic considering his missing leg. Kettleburn had been the Care of Magical Creatures professor since Albus’s time as Transfigurations professor under Armando Dippet’s tenure as headmaster. He was never the quiet sort, quite the opposite in fact. He’d been put on probation no less than fifty three times thus far, thankfully slowing down in his fervor to get himself dismissed after he lost his first limb – left arm – round about twenty years ago. It had not however, stopped him from losing his right leg a year and a half prior, after an accident involving a bowtruckle and a particularly feisty fire crab. 

“Right you lot, got a quick announcement on my part. I’ve decided that this’ll be my final year at Hogwarts.” This elicited a round of shocked exclamations from everyone. Albus lost his smile for a moment as his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“I must say I am deeply surprised at your decision Silvanus, I felt that you had good few decades left in you yet my old friend.” 

“Well Dumbledore, I’d very much like to enjoy my last remaining appendages while I’m still able. And as much as I want to continue here, I don’t doubt that I’ll be as useful as a flobberworm if things keep going the way the are. I’d just like to say it’s been as exciting as a ride on hippogriff being here with ye all, and I’ll sorely miss ye all when the time comes.” Everyone began with their own quiet well wishes, as Kettleburn nodded with a small smile and sat back down in his seat. 

“Silvanus, while I am sad to lose you, I shall endeavor to find solace in the hope that you gain fulfillment wherever your adventure may take you next. It will be an extremely difficult task to find someone who could fill your shoe my friend.” Albus quipped with a small grin at the end, as Kettleburn broke out into a loud guffaw. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much Dumbledore, I’ve asked an old friend to be my replacement for next year, at least to give ye time to find a more permanent replacement. I know how hard it can be to fill any position at such short notice. He’ll owl ye later.” Kettleburn added. Albus was quite touched at his long time colleague’s consideration, and just smiled gratefully. 

Minerva McGonagall was the next to step up. Dumbledore had brought her in fifteen years ago, at the young age of twenty-one after his initial replacement had decided to pursue other avenues. Albus was admittedly quite fond of her, it was always clear to him even during her years as a student, the passion she had for the subject, and that coupled with her palpable talent in it made her an uncontested hire when she applied for the position. 

Even as a child she’d had a stern countenance, but those who knew her were more than aware of her often quite soft manner, even bordering on malleable depending on the situation. But Merlin help you if you decide to confront her on any topic she has put her own determination behind, that is not a fight many would win. That was why he just very recently installed her as the deputy headmistress.

“I’d like to announce, officially, the introduction of the Wizarding Traditions and Festivities Society. I’ve spoken to both Charity Burbage our Muggle Studies professor, as well as professor Slughorn, in order to help manage and promote the club. It is our intention to include students from all walks of life, in an effort to not only bring back so much of our culture I feel we have sorely lacked in recent years, but to also foster union between the many types of magicals in school by giving them a common point to come together on.” McGonagall, nodded thankfully to her two colleagues before promptly sitting back down and focusing her attention to Dumbledore. 

Albus once more felt blindsided. He was certainly not expecting this at all, but acquiesced and gave her an agreeing nod. “Thank you professor McGonagall. You are of course allowed to commence a club at your own discretion as is your right as a professor, pending continuation for next year after an evaluation on its success.

Albus sat aside for the rest of the announcements, nothing of overt importance was discussed beyond the first two, and he found himself drifting constantly towards Minerva. 

Hogwarts gave professors and staff alike the ability to establish extracurricular clubs at their discretion, and were often able to continue them depending on their popularity with students and value to the institution. Quidditch and the Gobstones club were both first introduced just like this, and have been maintained since. Of course, many many clubs had been installed and demolished over the years. Everything from alchemy to wandlore had been attempted but none had survived over the course of a few years. Dueling was an ever popular choice for resurrection, every decade someone would try to bring it back before it inevitably failed within weeks, due to waning participation or more often than not someone getting grievously injured and the club has to be discontinued. 

Dumbledore’s friend, charms master, and dueling champion Filius Flitwick had tried to reintroduce it a number of decades in the past. But was immediately saddened to find that many of the wizarding families had discouraged their children from attending anything beyond the required curriculum taught by him, who in turn had influenced the majority of the student body to follow suit; due to his heritage and their prejudice. Filius had decided to wash his hands of the affair and said never again. 

That is until two years ago. Predictably someone had again decided they would champion professional dueling in Hogwarts. What was surprising though was that Filius Flitwick himself was the one to take up his wand. And even more surprising was that as of today the club was not only still running in its third year, but it was flourishing and churning out many competent duelists, who were even taking part in national and international tournaments. Why, just this past summer a sixth year Slytherin and member of the Hogwarts dueling club, Mr. Antonin Dolohov had won the United Kingdom under 20 division tournament held annually in Swansea. 

Albus had no doubt that under Filius’s tutelage many a witch and wizard would find new passion in the martial art of dueling, no, what Albus did doubt was the student’s and parent’s willingness to participate in something taught by a half-goblin, regardless of his achievements in the field. But somehow, Filius got over his disappointment and reluctance. And now even the more dubious families had been lauding Filius’s dueling instruction.

This had Albus confused initially. Flitwick was not someone so eager to be spurned twice, and the darker members of society weren’t so welcoming or progressive to change their attitudes towards him without reason either. Like all tough puzzles however, Dumbledore pieced it all together. 

It all had to do with Ara Black.

It took keeping a closer eye on Filius for a good portion of the previous year – who he spoke to, who he spoke about, who he tended lavish praise or otherwise tout. It was a combination of his observing the dynamics within the dueling sessions and a well motivated ghost of Cuthbert Binns – chap really didn’t favour goblins – that eventually revealed the young Black heir’s identity as Flitwick’s guiding wand.  
Oh, he was certainly subtle and very cautious about how he handled himself around others, he was never seen being too chummy with the Charms professor and was well represented in all the different factions in Hogwarts. He had done his best to seen as quite capable in the arena, but not overwhelmingly so – despite how potent his magic could feel at times, and the ease with which he practiced the art. He’d done his best, but he still has much experience left to gather; between portraits, ghosts, and the average gossipmonger, there was very little you could hide from the ears in Hogwarts. Albus had very little doubt that Minerva’s newest declaration would also once again involve young Mr. Black’s presence in some capacity. 

This felt unsettling. Ara is after all the favoured son of a notoriously dark and violent family, that over history have had magic and ideals that fall in line with the dogma of many Dark Lords. There’s no outright proof of any nefariousness, but those who choose to veil themselves in secrecy and influence others are rarely altruistic. At the very least he can be considered circumspect. It was all reminiscent of a very particular student from the past. 

The discussions had begun to wind down; the staff session was coming to a close. Rising from his comfortable perch once again, Dumbledore made his way through the milling crowd offering them his pleasantries as he approached his target. “Horace, I am planning on retiring for the night, perhaps you could join for a final drink. I’m afraid that we’ve not had the opportunity to speak this evening, and I would very much like to.”

Horace Slughorn turned away from his conversation with Poppy Pomphrey. Infirmary potions stocking. Raising his eyebrow in irritation and wary caution as to what the Headmaster could want, Slughorn downed the last of his drink and set the tumbler aside. Bidding Pomphrey a goodnight, both men made their way out towards the Headmaster’s office.

“What is this about Albus? It is rather early for me to be leaving a social gathering.” Said Slughorn seriously, Dumbledore couldn’t help but smile at the man’s earnestness.

“I wanted an update on the Slytherin council, so felt it best that we speak in a more private setting.” 

“Oh. Quite right. Well ask away, what would you like to know?” Dumbledore held in a sigh at this, it was always the same with Horace, in effect ‘you’re free to ask me questions, but what I choose to answer is entirely up to me’. Classic Slytherin tactic; come off as accommodating in order to find out what someone wants, and then use that as leverage later down the line.

“Might I suggest informing me of any major changes that have happened? I couldn’t help but notice that Slytherin as a whole appears to be… less tense.”

“Definitely, it was becoming a little stifling down in the dungeons. Ms. Black is of course still there, however Mr. Malfoy has been encouraged to vacate the position. I’m not entirely unhappy at that outcome if I’m truthful.”

“I had guessed as much from Mr. Dolohov’s visit to the infirmary. My question would then be, who is capable of taking on a champion duelist working alongside a competent partner.” Slughorn looked supremely uncomfortable at this question if his slightly constipated expression was any indication. Under normal circumstances Horace would be reticent in sharing this information. But with the advent of the current political climate, he was much more forthcoming. 

It also helped that they both were aware who was leading this pureblood movement. Being who he is, Slughorn had a standing invitation to almost any social event. And even if Tom Riddle was concerned about keeping his identity a secret at all, Horace had recognized him immediately. And he was terrified of the man. Albus knew there was something Tom, while still at Hogwarts, had said or done to Horace that had him so scared, something very important, but Slughorn was locked up tighter than a Gringotts vault if that topic ever came up. 

“Albus I… I’m not sure how to say this. The… person who fought those two boys, he did so single handedly. His second was entirely inconsequential. And when I say fought, I entirely mean it. That was no simple duel.” Dumbledore leaned in a little closer at this. That was no mean feat.

“The speed and ferocity of the battle was frightening Albus, they were chucking about dangerous spells like nothing, I didn’t even know what happened until it was all over and done. Those two boys were only a step away from trying to murder him, but he returned it tenfold. I have no idea why and how he managed to keep his talent hidden.” Horace’s expression shifted from scared to awed. Dumbledore had a sinking feeling he knew who this person was.

“And since he has come to be the council representative, he has already cowed his more vocal opposition. It has also helped his standing immensely that whoever he has put down so far have been the least pleasant members of the house.” Dumbledore could hear the evident respect that Slughorn held in his voice for this person.

“I think Mr. Ara Black has been doing a splendid job so far.” And there it was, that name again. Dumbledore leaned all the way back in his chair and closed his eyes, he didn’t bother hiding his sigh this time. The Blacks have managed to grasp their power base, Slytherin is now theirs. Ara Black holds close to a quarter of the school in his hands. Along with how he’s got his fingers dipped in any cauldron he can reach, he’s certain to try and expand his influence. 

Sitting in contemplation, Dumbledore wasn’t yet sure if this was a good or a bad thing. The reputation of his family precedes him, he’s certainly powerful and ambitious – not to mention his support base is equally capable in the young Ms. Blacks. And he himself has shown how ruthless and totalitarian he can be if needed.

Yet in that same instance, he seemingly holds none of his own family’s prejudice, freely associating with anyone and everyone. His escapades with a few young ladies in the school are clear indicators of this. And while he has certain traditional proclivities, he is very inclusive, and encourages all wizards and witches to participate in the community. Minerva's new extracurricular society was proof.

Ara Black was a confusing puzzle for Albus. And he wasn’t sure how to react until he had a clearer understanding of who Ara Black really was.

“He’s a good boy Albus” Dumbledore was brought out by Slughorn’s almost reassuring voice.

“Don’t think too hard on this, I honestly believe that he’s trying to do right by us. He’s a good boy Albus.” Slughorn pressed. Dumbledore gave a wane smile.

“I would very much like that Horace. His motivations seem pure, yet his methods are anything but. I certainly mean no offense by this, but we have been… misdirected before. I would just prefer all my facts straight before I cast my final decision.” Slughorn scowled slightly at this. Whether he was angry at him for bringing up the topic of Tom Riddle again, at Tom Riddle himself, or angry from being embarrassed at himself, Albus wasn’t sure. They both sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, before they finally retired to their respective quarters for the night. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rita Skeeter, hated being unremarkable, unnecessary, and unknown. It was her ambition to be recognizable to each and every wizard. To be needed by them, to have loyal followers tripping over themselves to hear her so much as sniff. She knew exactly what she wanted, only problem was she had no idea how to achieve it.

It had already been a month into her career at Hogwarts and barely anybody even knew that she existed. Aside from the Slytherin prefects, her head of house, and the transfigurations professor – turns out she was gifted in the subject, bears some thought – there was only that sad, sallow, sour-faced, Snape fellow who paid her any attention. And the latter only because they were the only two half-bloods in Slytherin in their year. So it was either hang out together or be completely alone.

Granted things were getting better slowly, she’d started making a few more friends in Slytherin among her year mates and seniors, as well as others from different houses she shares classes with. Rita had been terrified that first night in the dungeons, especially after that whole speech about ‘knowing her place’, and then somehow this one boy demolishes that blonde prissy princess and suddenly begins running her house like he built it with his own wand. And if his magic skill and status weren’t intimidating enough, he had that mentally unstable cackling pervert of a cousin as his attack dog. Poor Selena Selwyn still flinches whenever she’s around Bellatrix Black.

Rita Skeeter may not like them much, but she could certainly admit that the Black siblings had what she wanted. Respect and recognition. So she’d taken it upon herself to follow them around and snoop, hopefully she’d pick up the skills she wanted by association. Rita had tried just getting to know the youngest girl Narcissa first, they were in the same dorms and classes together after all, but the uppity, self-important brat deemed her too low-brow to mingle with her. The bitch.

That’s where Rita found herself, squatting behind a suit of armour round the corner from the stairs leading down to the sixth floor. Every Wednesday night and Saturday morning all four Blacks would leave the dungeons, go fetch that annoyingly boisterous fellow Sirius from Gryffindor and disappear for a few hours. Was it some sort of secret pureblood meeting? Were they sneaking out to Hogsmeade to buy sweets? Rita didn’t know, but she had to find out. Who knows? Maybe she could use that as leverage and have Ara teach her how to be like him. All this had sounded great in her head earlier, but she’d now been sitting here on her bum for the last two hours without seeing hide nor hair of them. They’d simply vanished into the walls before she’d managed to get up here. 

Rita was just about to give up for the night, when she heard voices once more pouring down from the hallway behind her hideaway. Quietly standing up on her knees, she gingerly peeked out from behind the knight’s knee to see the members of the Black family suddenly having a casual conversation in the corridor. What could they be talking about? How'd they manage to just appear? Maybe it had to do with the magic portal they used to get in and out of the castle!

“Bloody finally! I never thought we’d get done. Why do our training sessions have to be so bloody brutal? Why can’t we just practice tickling jinxes on each other once in a while? Would it kill you to not try to kill me every week?” Sirius loudly complained as he rotated his shoulder, wincing lightly as he came down on a sore spot. 

Training? Kill!? Where the Blacks being trained somewhere as assassins? Rita gasped.

“Be appreciative Sirius. It’s not everyday we get to learn the caliber of magic we are right now, and it’s even harder to find someone who can competently teach it.” Narcissa huffed out, turning a shy smile up to Ara who gently palmed her head at the compliment. Sirius sulked a little at the attention she was getting.

Wait, Ara Black is their assassin teacher! Rita came to another assumption.

“She’s right on the mark with that Siri, especially with a spell like Satelles. It could save your life when someone inevitably decides to cast the killing curse on you, little shit that you are.” Andromeda offered her… observation to Sirius. Taking the insult in stride, obviously being used to it Sirius defiantly stares back, arms crossed in an effort to look intimidating. Causing Andromeda to narrow her eyes at his impertinence. 

“Oh yeah? Like who? Plus it’s easy for you to say, You’ve been doing magic much much much longer than I have you old hag. It’s like three different spells mashed into one!”

“Well for starters Sirius, I’m pretty sure Andi’s about to take a shot if you keep running your mouth. So unless you want a surprise quiz on the spell I’d let it go. Just like your manners at the dinner table Sirius, let it go.” Ara chimed in with his attempt at mollifying both parties, Narcissa and Bellatrix found it incredibly funny. 

“And it’s really not that difficult Sirius, you just stab your wand down hard to break of chunks of the ground, pull back your wand and transfigure the broken chunks of floor into whatever shield you want, and then cast a halo overhead to make the shields orbit around you and intercept any unforgivable your way. Satelles nice and easy. Easier than conjuration at least.” All four of them rolled their eyes at Ara, it was most definitely NOT nice and easy. 

Unforgivables!? The Blacks had just confirmed that they were being trained to take lives! Rita was once more jumping to her own conclusions.

“And you!” Andromeda rounded on to Ara, putting and accusing finger on his chest. “What is wrong with you? Why haven’t you fixed whatever’s happening with Pandora?” Narrowing her eyes further, nostrils flaring in irritation. The three other Black children groaned in disappointment, this conversation had been going on almost daily for the past month. 

“I know that you’re doing your best impression of a Chinese Fireball, but there’s no reason to squint your eyes to look oriental. That’s pretty insensitive of you.” He tried to wave off the question but Andromeda wasn’t having it.

“What. Happened.” She hissed out. Ara sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I don’t know what to tell you Andi.”

“Fine. Then you just listen. You two are my best friends. I expect my best friends to get along. I don’t care to know what started this, all I care about is that you finish it. Narcissa, Sirius come. We’re leaving.” Grabbing both their hands in a firm grip, she began dragging them back to their respective dorms. 

“NO DRAGON! LET ME GO! I’VE NO GOLD TO OFFER YOU. CHECK WITH MY MOTHER, AND IF YOU DON’T LIKE WHAT SHE HAS, EAT HER! PLEASE! EAT MY MOTHER YOU FIRE BREATHING MONSTROSITY!” Sirius bellowed, Narcissa let out a squeak as she tried to keep pace, and Andromeda continued her march.

Seeing them heading her way, Rita quickly jumped to her feet and ran down the stairs as silently as possible. All the while thinking.' The Black family of assassins are holding secret meetings and training sessions, using a magic portal to take them in and out of Hogwarts. Also Ara Black is their leader and is having issues with one of his follower’s friends. Who could either be catching on to their nefarious activities or is involved in a possible love affair with him!' Somehow, she’d gotten really sidetracked from her original purpose.

Ara could only give a bemused frown at their retreating backs.

“What is your problem with the girl anyway? You don’t usually avoid every other slag in the castle now do you lover boy?” Bellatrix spoke up for the first time. Normally she’d sit back and let it play out, but Andromeda’s constant badgering was getting to her as well. Ara turned his head around and gave her a blank stare over his shoulder. 

“Is that envy I sense Bella? You don’t normally comment on the other girls I make love to.” Bellatrix gave him a disgusted grimace.

“Ugh. That’s positively disgusting! We do not ‘make love’ you scratch my itch when I want it, and you get yours scratched by whatever little slut you’re seeing for the week. It’s mutual masturbation as far as I’m concerned.” 

“Right. I’m the disgusting one. Whatever. Never you mind about Pandora, I guess I’ll actually have to do something before Andromeda decides to eat me, and probably Sirius too.” 

“As long as Andi stops her incessant complaining I don’t care.” Bellatrix took this opportunity to vacate the area and leave Ara standing alone.

Sensing that no one was around he sank down to the floor, leaned his head and shoulders on the wall and let out a forceful sigh. The subject of Pandora brought on a lot of unwelcome memories for Ara. It was bad enough that he sometimes saw Hermione’s face on Bellatrix’s, and normally he welcomed that in the bedroom, but it had been happening a lot outside of it. He’d been hit with more than a few avoidable curses because he’d been momentarily distracted by an as of yet unborn Hermione Granger banishing transfigured knives at him. But those were just quick flashes.

Pandora Stern posed a more problematic issue. She was Luna Lovegood’s mother. The same Luna Lovegood that Harry Potter was romantically involved with for more than a few years. And Pandora Stern was a virtual carbon copy of her own daughter’s personality; albeit, without the influence of Xenophilius - so no Nargles.

After the war and Harry’s failed relationship with Ginny, he’d gone on an extended spree of affair after affair with any pretty witch who so much as walked past him. It was a combination of relief of not having to deal with anymore Voldemort, a real need of physical intimacy since he’d received very little growing up sans Molly and Hermione, and not a little entitlement – ' I’d won the war at great cost to myself and my loved ones, surely I deserved a reward of some kind. '

This had gone on for about a year until Harry ran into Luna again. Luna Lovegood was someone Harry counted as a true lifelong friend. She’d fought with him at the ministry; she’d supported him through Sirius’ loss; she, at great personal risk, had supported his stance against Voldemort through the Quibbler. But most importantly she’d shown him that he wasn’t alone. There was someone else who’d gone through the same sort of life as he had and survived. Lost parents, loneliness, bullying, being vilified and attacked by your own peers, being forgotten by your own friends. They’d shared all these life experiences, and it showed; because there was nobody, Hermione and Ron included, that could help him get out of a funk easier than Luna Lovegood.

One day at the Burrow Luna asked him out; Harry never looked back. It was the easiest relationship Harry ever had. They understood each other and what they needed, she accepted him with his demons, and he had grown fond of her eccentricities. They just fit. For the first time in both of their lives, they’d fallen in love. And in his grief Harry had thrown that away. He’d left her alone again. Ara didn’t know if things would have turned out any different had Luna been there after everything, as it was she’d been working at her Mastery in Magizoology and Ara doubted she’d even gotten Harry’s owl before he’d decided to stuff it.

So now, whenever he looked into those shimmering silver eyes, or heard the melodic lilt of her voice; all Ara could see was Luna’s betrayed face. It killed him inside. And Pandora’s such a sweet girl, whip smart too, just like his Luna used to be. In Ravenclaw, surrounded by a very small group of friends, so very loyal to her passions, not to mention unapologetic with her candor. 

His attraction to her was immense, but every time he thought about being with her all that went through his head that somehow, someway he was betraying his memory of Luna. Because If he wants Luna to live, he can’t be the one to be with her mother.

Dropping his face in his hands and roughly scrubbing his eyes. He can’t keep avoiding her, Pandora was his friend too. Also his relationship with Andromeda was clearly suffering as well.

“Bollocks. I’m just gonna have to suck it up.” Getting back up, he started following Bella’s path down to the dungeon.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dorea Black lounged languidly in the Grimmauld Place parlour, steaming cup of Darjeeling in hand, and a soft smile on her lips. She was absentmindedly staring out the window. It was charmed to show whatever scenery someone wished to see, so right now, instead of the empty street outside the manor, Dorea was staring across the Black Lake. It was where Charlus had asked her for her hand in their final week at Hogwarts. She dearly missed her husband, but she thanked him for giving him her son Ara more than anything else. Unconsciously her hand drifted to the flower brooch Ara had conjured for her and she began to gently stroke it with her thumb. It always reminded her of her child and never failed to calm her.

Dorea was forced out of her reverie as the telltale bark of an owl sounded from outside the window. The charm temporarily wore off as she opened the window to let the bird in. She read the missive while guiding the owl to a perch, it would leave in its own time, an amused smirk grew on her lips as she finished. 

“Kreacher.” An elf hobbled into the room from beyond the entrance, holding a tray of biscuits to accompany the tea. 

“Yes mistress?” Collecting the tray and setting it aside, Dorea parked herself back in her seat.

“Please call everyone who is home down.” Nodding in affirmation, the elf snapped his fingers and vanished. Minutes later everybody started filtering in. Arcturus had made his way over to the biscuits, while Melania and Dorea were locked in casual dialogue. Walburga thundered her way into the parlour, each step having purpose.

“What is it you want Dorea? Not everyone has the time to serve your whims.” Walburga announced her presence into the room, Orion quietly trailing behind her as he also found his way to the biscuits. Cygnus and Druella, as always, weren’t here. Tea with the Rowle family she believed. Dorea lazily pointed to the letter sitting on the table nearest to her niece.

“It seems your son has finally deigned to write to us.”

Walburga immediately perked, and snatched the letter off the table as she began to furiously read it. Orion had to read it over her shoulder. Judging by his perturbed expression, and her seething one they clearly were not pleased. Arcturus made his way over and pulled it put of her shivering hands, and began reading it aloud.

“Dear whoever is reading this letter. It’s me Sirius, everybody was telling me to write home so I am, they were also adamant I update you on what’s happened. So I’m in Gryffindor, do what you will with that information. Not exactly sure how easy this might be for you all to swallow, but Ara told me he already spoke to you about this possibility. Anyway, school’s fun, we’ve all kept up with our training. See you at Yule, remember I really like those new two-tone dragon skin boots I saw at Twilfit’s. Your favourite, Sirius.” Arcturus chuckled and handed the letter to his son.

“That insolent whelp! I’ll have him dragged back here this instant, hex him till he can’t stand the sight of red and then send him back next year to get properly sorted into Slytherin where he belongs!” Walburga ranted. Dorea and Melania shared a look and Dorea responded.

“You know Walburga, it really doesn’t do to start drinking so early in the day. If you feel the need to become a lush, at least be respectful about it and conduct your impropriety at a more acceptable hour.” 

“I am no drunk!”

“Well then darling, you’ve certainly managed to fool us. I’ve only ever seen people who are deep into the bottle behave like you do. Constantly shouting about something or other, and failing to remember the rest.” Melania jumped in.

“My memory is absolutely fine.” Walburga retorted, unable to comment on the shouting. 

“I think they’re referring to what Ara said before they left for Hogwarts. He had categorically warned us that Sirius was going to end up in Gryffindor.” Orion added in his two knuts, his attention still mostly on the letter. 

“Well Orion, Ara is not his parent, that’s us. So how we choose to raise him is how he should be raised and how he should behave. And don’t get me started on Ara, the boy fully encouraged this, if he had just kept his nose out of our business, Sirius would have been content to just toe the line. It’s all just some elaborate plan of his to spite me.” Melania and Orion immediately cringed at her bringing up Ara. It never sat well with the other two if a single bad word was said about him. Arcturus tore himself away from his snack as he sent Walburga a look that said ‘Did you really just say that?’ Dorea instantly cut into her tirade.

“Oh please do shut up Walburga! First of all, had it not been for the rest of us I doubt either of your sons would have lived past infancy. And you should know far better than to bring up my son in my presence, do not forget what I’m capable of, lest you find that the next head mounted on that wall is your own. Let me also remind you of what ‘that boy’ said about your son. Sirius is unafraid and unashamed of being exactly who he is, and because of that he can only go into the house that stands for bravery, because if a child can grow up to be exactly who he is in a house run like Sirius’ they’ve got conviction and courage in spades. And more so than anyone here, he is pure, because he refuses to be anything but purely himself.” Walburga was about to fire off another stream of abuse, but Arcturus cut that out.

“Toujours Pur, Walburga. That’s what he was implying about your son. That Sirius follows our motto more accurately than any of us.” Arcturus clarified for her. This stopped her in her tracks, leading her to really think about what they had told her. Walburga sat down and was left to stew in her own thoughts for a minute as everyone returned to their own conversations. 

She was just about to get up and leave, before suddenly remembering that she too had something to share with the room.

“Oh I forgot to mention, Druella informed me last night that the Lestranges will be holding the Summer Gala this year. I just received the invitation. It was rather unusual.” This piqued Melania’s curiosity

“Really dear? How so? We don’t exactly expect too much from the Lestranges. It’s usually impressive enough for them if they don’t require us to perform blood sacrifice rituals as a way of confirming our attendance.” This chagrined Walburga a little, she was very good friends with Renata Lestrange, but she chose to move past it.

“No nothing of that sort. It’s just that they’ve decided to hold the event on behalf of their guest of honour.” She explained. This garnered everyone’s interest.

“That is unusual, who exactly is this guest of honour?” Dorea probed.

“Heir Thomas Slytherin.”


	4. Lost In The World

Rita Skeeter scurried towards the library where she knew she would find Snape sitting with that muggleborn friend of his. It had been three days since she had ‘stumbled’ upon the Black siblings, and found out their malicious secret. She had been paranoid initially that they’d find her for snooping and punish her with god knows what awful dark magic they knew, so thus far she’d sealed her lips on the topic. But she just couldn’t keep it in anymore. 

Also, if more people were aware and actively spreading the news, then there’s less focus on her as a target. So Severus was as good a scapegoat as any.

“Severus!” Rita loudly whispered as she spotted his table.

Severus Snape flinched as he recognised the voice calling him out. In a futile attempt to hide himself from her presence he raised the tome he was reading and stuck his nose in the pages as far as it would go. Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d take the hint. 

Lily Evans, seated next to him going through her own book, glanced at her childhood friend in confusion. He normally only reserved that pained expression for whenever he had to deal with Petunia. She’d been particularly unpleasant towards him this summer, so she’d know his current look anywhere. 

“New friend of yours?” she asked him genially. 

“No idea what you’re on about.” he rebutted immediately, still trying to keep himself out of sight.

“Well then I guess she must be calling for another Severus.” she supplied, Snape turned a pitiful expression towards Lily. 

“I don’t know why she won’t just leave me be. Other people in our house are talking to her now, but she still latches on to me.” He answered in exasperation.

“Really? She probably just wants to be friends.” 

“That’s what you’re here for, you by yourself are more than enough to handle.” he grumbled.

“Very funny. I’m going to introduce myself.” 

“You’ll regret it.” she ignored his protestations.

“Snape! Finally found you. Listen I need to tell you something, it’s important, you won’t believe what I discovered.” Rita exclaimed breathlessly towards the boy, as if she had the most crucial news in the whole world.

“I’m busy. I’m sure the other first years would find whatever you want to say more worthwhile.” Snape curtly dismissed her with narrowed eyes. Only the top half of his face peeked over the still raised book, leaving the barrier between him and Rita there. 

“Hey, don’t be mean! Ignore him. Hi I’m Lily.” Lily rebuked Snape and then instantly switched gears and turned towards Rita, arm extended. Rita, noticing her for the first time, clasped her own hand around Lily’s and plastered on a smile.

“Charmed. Rita Skeeter. Slytherin first year.” 

“So what did you want to talk to mister surly over here about? You look really excited about whatever it is.” Snape turned his glare to his redheaded friend for that jibe. Rita pondered for a moment and nodded as she decided that the more grapes on the vine, the less chance of her being the one eaten. 

“Well I guess I could clue you in as well, seeing as your friends with Severus. Ok, so you know the Blacks right?” Rita conspiratorially leaned in and kept her voice low as she addressed the other two. Both nodded at her odd question. Even Snape wasn’t above getting new information when it was being handed to him so readily. 

“Well a few nights ago I was just minding my own business exploring the castle a little, when out of nowhere all the Black siblings just appeared out of thin air. Naturally, I decided to find out what was happening. They were talking about training and dark magic like the unforgivables. It all sounded so very scary. I deduced that they had a magical way of getting in and out of the castle, and were being trained in all these evil spells - I personally think they’re assassins. It was the big Black boy, Ara who was training them as well.” Rita finished breathlessly, staring at her friends with eager anticipation. Snape had put down his book and was looking at her with suspicion, Lily on the other hand was staring wide-eyed incredulity, as if she’d just been told that Dumbledore used to be besties with Grindelwald. 

Snape wanted to dismiss her theory for being completely ridiculous, but regrettably couldn’t. With the amount of time he had been forced to spend around Rita he was well aware of how she operated; although she was a devoted gossip who loved telling tales, there was always a nugget of truth that her ideas rested on. 

But, more so than her modus operandi, what made him even consider her story were the people involved. He wasn’t so quick to forget what happened his first night in Hogwarts. No schoolboy should be capable of what those three were - both magic and purpose. Truth be told the two council heads scared him, and Slytherin was a pretty scary place, especially for anyone without political or financial backing, of which he had neither. And those two stood at the top.

“That’s really farfetched Rita. Maybe they were just having a family study group or something. I really rather doubt that any school children are trained killers.” Lily hesitantly replied.

“I promise you, that's what they sounded like. And that's not all! Apparently the older boy is having an affair with one of his sister’s friends, and she’s not happy about it. And don’t tell me you haven’t heard the rumours about him, he’s a well documented womanizer from what I’ve heard. So it stands to reason that if all that is true, what I’ve learnt probably is too.” Rita rebutted with determination. 

“I’ll bet the younger one ends up being just like him too. What’s his name? Julius?” she tacked on. Lily immediately frowned at this and stood up from her chair in a huff.

“First of all his name is Sirius. And secondly, you don’t even know him, so it’s not very nice of you to be spreading lies.” Lily began packing away her things angrily.

“Uh oh! You’d better be careful, looks like Julius is already sinking his claws into you.” Rita rudely fired back at her.

“I’m going to go find him and get this all cleared up, and prove that you don’t know what you’re talking about. Just you watch. I’ll see you later Severus.” Lily pointed her finger at and scolded Rita, and marched out of the Library in search of her Gryffindor friend. Seeing this, Snape couldn’t help scowling. Thoughts along the line of ‘Why is she defending him? Why does it matter? Is it so important that she’d just leave me?’ ran through his mind. He didn’t like this at all, ‘She shouldn’t be this friendly with other people, she’s my friend first!’ Unknowingly his fists started clenching.

“Some people just can’t see what's slapping them right in the face.” Rita sighed in resignation, as she took a seat across from Snape, who shifted his attention back on her. They both sat in silence for a minute before Rita opened her mouth again.

“So… you finish your potions essay yet?” Snape grumbled under his breath and brought the book back up at her obvious attempt at getting him to help her. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Pass over the penne please.” Pandora put her spoon in her mouth and held it in between her lips to free her right hand, she reached over and passed the half empty serving dish of pasta over to Andromeda. The two friends were sitting together for lunch at the Ravenclaw table today, they both shared their upcoming arithmancy class so decided to grab a bite and head out together after. 

Pulling out the spoon and swallowing her bite, Pandora kept her focus on her friend sitting next to her. They’d not spoken much before third year, never having shared that many classes, but they’d become fast friends after they ended up having all the same electives. 

Andromeda was happily scooping out the food and ladling it on her plate while humming a little tune. This would have been seen as odd to Pandora had she not known the normally much more stoic Andromeda better. For a Slytherin her tells were rather easy to read; she’d found herself another boy. So predictable, and so very annoying. Pandora knew that this would end just like the rest of her hormone fueled romances - in complete tatters. And then she and her cousin would have to spend the month afterwards dealing with her droopy, snotty, mopey state. 

The Black family caused her endless headaches with their wanton ways. At least Andromeda had some sense of propriety; she only chose to spread her metaphorical wings, he instead chose to spread his literal legs. She ignored the little niggling of annoyance in the back of her head that that comment caused, and instead zeroed in on her bench mate.

“You could be a little subtler you know?” 

“Subtle about what?” Andromeda countered casually.

“You don’t need to hide it. It’s scrawled all over your face.” she responded nonchalantly, elbow resting on the table with her cheek in her palm. 

“Whatever you say…” Andromeda refused to look in her direction, and continued on with her lunch.

“My question though is, who? I can pretty much rule out Gryffindor and Slytherin, because I along with the whole school would already know if that were the case.” She began, unperturbed by her friend’s reticence.

“Ravenclaw is out as well, nobody’s gonna touch you after the way things ended with Rookwood.” Andromeda winced at the memory that Pandora’s comment dug up. Abandoning her coy demeanor, she finally turned around and contributed to the conversation.

“Please don’t remind me. I still don’t understand how that all went so wonky. I mean sure, he got a little handsy so I told him to sod off, and that should have been that. But when I told Ara…” she shivered at that.

“He’s usually so collected; I’ve never seen him so angry before - or since. He doesn’t exactly come off as someone with a temper.” Pandora pondered. Andromeda lightly shook her head, disagreeing with the comment.

“He hides it well, and can usually keep it lidded. But if you press the right buttons he doesn’t just snap, he explodes. You should see him at home sometimes, I’ve actually become more scared for auntie Walburga than scared of her. One of these days she’s going to go too far and that's going to spell the end of her at his hands.” She blew out a strained breath. Pandora chose to avoid that can of worms.

“Augustus won’t speak to me anymore either, and only because I’m friends with you. He just scampers away like a startled kneazle. He used to be my favourite Runes partner, he was so very capable. Too bad. Anyway back to the original conversation.” Andromeda frowned at that declaration, she’d thought she’d successfully derailed the conversation for a moment. Pandora was a little too sharp for her own good sometimes.

“Now where were we? Right! That only leaves Hufflepuff. Hmm. OK. I’m going to say a few names and let’s judge your reaction.” 

“Oh that’ll never work.”

“SH! Let’s see. Diggle.” Blank stare.

“That’s clearly a no. Podmore?” Andromeda raised her left eyebrow.

“Diggory? Fenwick?” She shot off one after the other. Andromeda’s right eyebrow joined its partner.

“Do you honestly believe it’d be any of those two buffoons?” she asked askance.

“Guess not. Dearborn?” Pandora was relentless.

“With how pretty he is? I don’t think I’d be able to stand being the second most beautiful person in a couple.” Andromeda flat out dismissed that suggestion.

“Well I’m out of options.” Andromeda shot her friend a smug smile in victory.

“So in effect, you’ve just revealed that whoever it is, isn’t a pureblood or even a halfblood.” Pandora concluded, Andromeda’s smirk was quickly wiped off her face.

“And given your usual taste; not many fit the bill my dear.” Pandora had shifted her gaze from her friend to a spot above her head, and shifted to the side on the bench leaving some room between them. Andromeda was staring in fright as the identity of her new squeeze was stolen from her so easily. 

“Tonks.” Andromeda jumped at the sound of his name being called out loud by someone behind her, she immediately spun around to see the face of her cousin Ara.

“Wh-what!” She spluttered out.

“I just said thanks… she made room for me to sit.” He said gesturing to Pandora as he climbed into the now open seat. Turning around to look at Pandora he asked.

“What’s the matter with her?” Thumbing at his cousin behind him. Pandora made eye contact with Andromeda and wore a malicious smile.

“Oh nothing much, just discussing a few rumours, a little boy talk. Did you know Andi dear’s roped in another naive young lad?”

“Oh really now? Who is it this time?” He gave a cheeky smile to the mildly shocked Andromeda over his shoulder, matching his expression with Pandora.

“I must admit it’s quite scandalous, I could only imagine what your family might say if they find out.” Pandora expressed in false concern. The revelation that someone else, and more importantly someone in her family would find out snapped Andromeda out of her stupor and she reflexively kicked out under the table to silence Pandora. 

“OUCH! What the bloody hell was that?” Andromeda missed her mark and instead attacked the unsuspecting fourth year sitting in front of her, who was now gingerly rubbing his shin, checking under the table to find the culprit.

“Don’t listen to her, she’s just being a busybody” Andromeda hurriedly said, shooting a dirty look to her friend. Pandora just held her ever present grin, but decided to relent.

“Sure, sure. Nothing serious ever comes out of my mouth ever, just rumours.” She insisted sarcastically.

“Did someone say rumours? ‘Cuz I’ve heard some cracking great ones!” Sirius suddenly popped into the conversation out of nowhere.

“Dear God. You’ve summoned him. What have I said about using that damn word?” Ara complained.

“Listen to this, words out that we’re a family of vampire assassins looking to usurp Hogwarts so that you can have your way with every witch here, every which way.” Sirius excitedly yelled out, finding immense amusement with the outlandish bit of gossip going around. At the end of the day, anything he could find to irritate his brother was something worth paying attention to. 

A few of the nosy students sitting around the vicinity did their best to inconspicuously find purchase now. Quite eager to find out Ara’s reaction, and possibly find some fuel to lend credence to the rumours. 

“Do tell where you've managed to hear that nonsense from.” Andromeda demanded.

“It’s all over the school, but I got to know directly from Lily. She also said that people are saying that I’m going to grow up to be just like you!” Sirius supplied happily, pointing over to the nervously fidgeting girl behind him. This immediately woke up Ara’s inner Harry, he could use this opportunity to finally get to know his old mother. 

“Hey that’s great! There’s no better compliment.” Sirius nodded along in agreement with his cousin brother. 

“That’s not what I said Sirius!” The ginger girl finally found her voice and denied her friend’s assumption.

“She means to say you're going to grow up to be a lewd and lascivious degenerate just like this slag here.” Pandora helped out the first year, who looked at her both in thanks for the assistance, as well as embarrassment at her phrasing. Ignoring the girl, Ara looked at Lily and waved her over. Hesitantly she complied and stood in front of the older boy.

“What’s your name?” he asked simply.

“Lily Evans.” She responded in a small but unafraid voice.

“So Lily, you don’t think Sirius is like the rumours then?” Ara inquired, Lily took a glance at Sirius, but quickly brought her attention back to him and nodded resolutely.

“He’s a bit stupid and misbehaved, but he’s really very nice and friendly and not just to girls. So I don’t think he’ll grow up to be anything like you.” She stated rather self assured, the other students around her started laughing, leaving her confused as to what was so funny with what she said. She looked over at Sirius who was laughing and poking his cousin's face, while the two girls on either side sported rather satisfied smirks. Ara wore a self-deprecating smile and stared at her in the eyes, she lost her train of thought for a moment, ‘Wow, his eyes are just like mine’.

“I take it you have no problems believing the rumours about me then.” He commented. It finally dawned on Lily why everyone was laughing, she’d just insulted the boy right to his face. Lily immediately tried explain herself but somehow fell short.

“No! It’s just that there’s so much said about you, and all the upper year girls warned us about you and a few others, telling us to be careful.” She frantically blurted out.  He couldn’t keep a straight face and chuckled softly.

“It’s alright, I’m just teasing. I’m very aware of my own reputation.” He reached out and pinched her cheeks, Lily seemed to relax after she realized she hadn’t offended. He gently patted her cheeks as he let go.

“Right so back to the reason I actually came here.” Ara reached into the inner breast pocket of his robes and pulled out a roll of parchment and handed it to Andromeda. She took it and began reading out.

“Dear Black family cousins. We would cordially like to invite you to the burrow this 21st of December 1970, for the debut of our first born child. We look forward to blah blah blah, dress code is relaxed, and please don’t fill up before you get here. Signed aunt Cedrella on behalf of Arthur and Molly. Ooh sounds like fun. We planning on going?” She questioned and Ara nodded in affirmation.

“Brilliant! I can’t wait to eat aunt Ced’s cooking again. It’s gonna be a feast! She makes her cordon bleu so crispy.” Sirius pumped his fists in excitement.

The food on the tables started disappearing signaling the end of lunch, waving them goodbye, Sirius and Lily headed back to the Gryffindor table to collect the rest of their friends and head to their next classes. The three fifth year Slytherins also began their trek to their next lesson. During their walk, Ara was lightly pulled back by Pandora so that they could have a quick private conversation.

“I see you’re acknowledging that I exist again.” She said slightly terse.

“Any reason for that? Or am I just some sort of friend of convenience?” She prodded, after a moment without reply from the boy. He let out a small sigh through his nose.

“It’s not like that, and you know it. I was just in a weird headspace. I'm sorry Pandora, I promise it won’t happen again.” He urged in sincerity. Pandora walked along silently, but Ara could see her shaking with clenched fists, tears threatening to spill. 

Pandora never bothered to make too many friends, and those she held close really mattered to her. He is someone she values and he had, however temporarily, tossed her aside; just like he had tossed aside Luna when he went through the veil. In that moment he realized how much he had hurt her, and that uncomfortable, cold pressure hammered on his chest at the thought. He went back to his life as Harry, and remembered how Luna had consoled him in their fifth year, and how well it had worked to ease him in his grief at the time. Gently un-fisting her hand, he entwined their fingers together and gave her tight lingering squeeze, and she squeezed back just as hard. 

It was his silent comfort and a solemn vow that he’d honestly never pull anything like it again. She inhaled shudderingly, pulling back her tears.

“You better keep it.” She managed to say in a wavering voice. He gave her another comforting grip. 

Andromeda smiled to herself as she took in the exchange. Finally, he’d gotten his head out of his arse and done the right thing.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first term of fifth year had finished and the Black children were home for the winter holidays. Ara stood in front of the floor length mirror assessing his outfit. This had become a strange obsession for him after entering this timeline. 

Growing up as Harry he’d never had nice, or even fitting, clothes to wear. Even in his later years he spent most of his time in his auror uniform or pajamas, so nice clothes were never really on his radar. But growing up in the Black household, he was draped in only the finest wizarding tailors had to offer children, and he found he quite liked it. 

He was preparing to leave for the Weasley’s brunch this morning. It being a fairly casual affair, as well as midwinter, he was fiddling with the cuff of his dark green Kelpie leather jacket. Being a cold-blooded creature that preferred the murky depths of freezing lakes, it’s skin’s heat conservation was phenomenal and it was waterproof to boot, making it perfect attire for the snowy English winters. 

The click of his doorknob turning alerted him to someone’s presence in the room. The reflection of his enchanted mirror shifted and peeked at the intruder behind him. 

“Well aren’t we looking handsome!” Dorea walked up behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. 

“Are you almost ready? We’re just waiting on you now before we get going.” She asked, almost roughly running her fingers through his hair in an attempt to style it the way she prefers it, as opposed to how he himself would like it to be. But Ara didn’t really mind, to him it was just another way she showed she cared for him. Satisfied with her work she stepped back.

“Just about.” He answered, straightening his jacket and guiding her out the door. All the others waiting grumbled in relief as Dorea finally stepped down after fetching her son. The whole gang was present, missing only Walburga & Orion, who had decided against attending ‘such a plebeian affair’. 

“Looky looky her highness doth graceth us with thine presence.” Sirius bowed.

“Queit down Sirius, that didn’t even make sense! It’s bad enough we have to wait for his slow arse, we don’t need to suffer through your shite either!” Bellatrix shouted at both boys simultaneously. Ara was unfazed, everyone was understandably a little testy, it was almost noon and nobody’d had a morsel to eat in anticipation for the upcoming feast. 

“C’mon you brats, I’m hungry.” Arcturus stepped through the floo, followed by everyone else in order of hungriest and angriest. 

The brunch was in full swing by the time they’d arrived, the active hubbub of conversation and the music from the wizarding wireless littered the atmosphere. Half of Ottery St. Catchpole was invited and present, so not at all unexpected. 

Dorea, Druella, and Ara were the last to step through. Taking a quick look around, Arcturus and the children were already halfway through filling their plates at the buffet; while Cygnus had wandered off butterbeer in hand, towards the loudest group of chattering men. Dorea huffed in exasperation at their callous behaviour.

“Right, I’m going to go find the happy couple, you two see if you can scare up Ceddie and send her my way.” Dorea ordered the two remaining relatives as she marched away. 

“I guess we have our orders then.” Druella took his arm in her own, and ushered them through the milling crowd in search of the hostess. They eventually spotted her outside in the garden, after getting stuck saying their hellos to a bunch of the other guests in attendance. She was chatting with a couple classmates of Ara’s, Amos Diggory of Hufflepuff and another young lady in the year above. 

“Cedrella dear, how are you!” Druella moved forward with genuine affection and embraced the woman, giving her quick cheek kiss. 

“Very well my sweet, I trust you’re doing well too. And who is this handsome young man you’ve brought along?” Cedrella Weasley welcomed them and asked playfully. The two teens standing with her looked surprised at the idea that their Black classmates were invited and agreed to something like this. 

“Black? I didn’t know you knew Madame Cedrella.” Amos Diggory uttered, re-inserting himself into the conversation. Cedrella turned to the two of them and before she could say anything Ara butted in.

“Well considering we’re related and quite close, it’d be rather odd of I didn’t. Question is why’re you here?” Ara countered none too politely. Amos was showing a distinct lack of manners, and Ara wasn’t in any mood to entertain that. His real question was clear as day ‘what are you and rest of the Blacks doing here?’

Cedrella looked miffed at the exchange so ultimately decided to play peacekeeper and cleared her throat to get their attention. Druella looked down on the boy with unconcealed disapproval, both for his out of place insinuation, as well as his distinct need for better social graces. 

“Where are my manners. Please meet Amos Diggory and his date for the day Amelia Bones. Amos, Amelia, this is Druella and Ara Black.” She introduced them unnecessarily, but with clear warning to conduct themselves properly. Ara decided to ignore the Hufflepuffs for the moment and turned his attention back to Cedrella.

“It’s good to see you. So how’s it feel to officially be Granny Black now? Mum’s green with envy.” He leaned in and repeated the gesture Druella had just done. Cedrella laughed and smacked him on the arm.

“Oh don’t you start! I may be a grandmother, but I’m still technically your cousin yet. I will hear nothing of my age.” She chided him.

“You’re actually his aunt, and mine too if I recall.” Druella threw in mischievously. The conversation continued like this for a bit as the two teens on the side were left out for the most part. 

“So, Madame Cedrella how’d you meet the badger here.” Ara pointed at Amos. The three Blacks were still irritated with Amos’ behaviour from earlier so Cedrella let his rudeness go.

“Amos was introduced to me by his mother, he’s rather taken by enchantments and runes, so requested a mentorship of sorts of me. I’ve been a bit bored at home so agreed to tutor him in the more advanced magic during the holidays.” She explained.

“Mrs. Weasley has been an absolute fountain of knowledge!” Amos looked up to Cedrella with sparkling eyes, very clearly enamored by the older woman. 

“Wow aunt Ced, I didn’t know you were into charity.” Amos spluttered at the insult, the rest did their level best to hide their amusement, not wanting to embarrass the boy further. Even his date was hiding her smile in her glass of juice. 

“Philanthropy is marginally better than philandering Black.” Amelia added breezily, feeling the need to come to the aid of her partner, but also trying not to sour the mood. It seemed to be the right thing to say judging by how he started laughing.

“Everybody needs a hobby don’t you think?” he shot her a wink as he said this. Amelia brought her cup back up to mask her obvious blush at his blatant flirting. Amos looked constipated all of a sudden, deciding it was time to salvage what dignity he had left, he ushered his date away while bidding his goodbyes. Ara kept smiling at her, inordinately pleased when she gave him another look back as Amos dragged her away. 

“Will you be able to behave yourself, or am I going to have to body bind you and hide you in a corner somewhere?” Cedrella sighed deeply.

“As much as I might enjoy that, I think I’ll pass. Where’s Arthur and Molly by the way?” Druella tittered at his droll response.

“They’re over in the garden by the pond. Now hurry along, they’d been asking for you earlier. And do send your mum my way when you see her.” Cedrella shooed him away.

“That’s what she told me to tell you. I’m just going to let you two find each other then.” Ara walked off, leaving the two women behind. 

Going around the haphazard house, he came upon the small clearing with picnic tables and chairs strewn about, surrounded by hedges full of colourful flowers. There were only a handful of people in the garden, Molly and Arthur both had their backs to him, so Ara managed to sneak up on them. Rushing up to them in quick strides, Ara slung his arms around the couple’s shoulders and brought them in for a tight squeeze. Both exclaimed at the surprise hug.

“Congratulations you two! I’m so happy for you!” Recognizing the voice, the Weasleys leaned in and accepted the embrace fully. A minute of good wishes and greetings later, everyone was introduced to everyone. Joining the Weasleys were one of Molly’s elder brothers – Fabian Prewitt, and a neighbor from Ottery, Xenophilius Lovegood.

“So where’s the baby then? I thought he’d be here with you.” Ara asked. Taking his hand off Arthur but still keeping his arm firmly locked on Molly’s shoulder, who had wrapped her own arm around his waist.

“Dad's got him. He’s showing off young William to everybody. Again.” Arthur said laughingly. 

“He’s been such great help these last few weeks, I never thought raising a baby took so much work.” Molly said slightly tiredly but with an unwavering smile on her face. On the inside, Harry was laughing ‘just wait till you have your seventh!’.

“How’s the job going Arthur? You’ve been an obliviator for how long now?” He asked.

“Just about a year now. It’s alright, keeps me busy. But these muggles, you won’t believe the sort of stuff I’ve seen in people’s homes! They have these little glass balls of light, no candles or light charms or anything!” He began regaling them with the magic of electricity. 

“Muggles really are quite fascinating! I’ve actually been considering writing a piece on them for the Quibbler. But alas, the current investigative article on the illegal trouser sticking charm scandal with Falmouth Falcon’s has kept me busy.” The young Lovegood explained. Next to him Fabian sunk his face in his hands as his friend once again derailed the conversation into the ridiculous. 

“Please don’t Xeno.” Prewitt drawled.

“Oh quite right! I shouldn’t spoil the article for you. You can read it once it’s published in my paper.” Xenophilius caught himself from revealing too much.

“Where’s you’re not much better half Fabian?” Ara inquired.

“Gideon ran off the second Dorea showed up, had his tongue wagging after Bellatrix.” 

“Poor bugger still hasn’t given up. He should know by now there’s no chance.”

“Speaking of no chance. Don’t you think it’s time you took your hands off my sister there chappie? She’s a married woman with a child now after all.” Fabian pointed out to Ara who was still draped over Molly. Noticing this he wrapped his other arm around her as well, and crushed her even tighter to himself, Molly out of reflex reciprocated. 

“Never! Mollywobbles always gives the best hugs!” Ara looked down at Molly with a sincere smile as Molly just laughed. Inner Harry really loved these moments.

The party ended late into the afternoon. The Blacks had just returned and had all retired to the sitting room, no one feeling the need to part just yet. The women were still gushing over little Bill, while Cygnus and Arcturus were talking about something or other. 

“Good, you’re all back. Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Ara a quick word please.” Walburga had entered and asked for attention. The three teens turned to her and waited for her to make her next demand.

“The Lestrange’s are holding the ball this summer, and I think it’s about time you all started attending these galas.” Bellatrix looked irritated and Andromeda resigned, Ara just shrugged and nodded nonchalantly.

“Sure. No problem. It’s just a single evening after all.” He said, more to the two girls than himself. The Lestrange brothers were not their favourite classmates.

“Excellent. It’s about time you listened to me for once. You’ll find it quite intriguing I believe. They’ve held it as the debut of the newly discovered Slytherin heir.” Walburga enthusiastically revealed. Ara’s demeanor immediately sharpened. If what she was saying was the truth, that meant Voldemort was making his official reveal. He’d heard about Tom attending a few of these pureblood parties before, but he’d never made himself the center of attention until now. Voldemort was beginning his next phase and Ara didn’t think he was ready just yet. 

He’d remained quiet for the evening following that piece of news. Dorea had noticed this, and looked worried at her son’s sudden introspection. 

Ara was pacing anxiously in his room, his mind going round and round in worry. ‘What the hell’ve I been doing? God, I’m so stupid! Tom’s ready to make waves and I haven’t even finished Hogwarts yet! Am I even ready to face him? I’ve been fooling around too much. Shit! Have I done enough?’

As his string of panicked thoughts prevailed, he failed to notice Dorea walk into his room, sit on his bed, and stare after him in concern. She’d been here well over a few minutes, and was losing patience at his obliviousness. Getting up, she reached across and grabbed his hands and put them in hers. This snapped him out of his reverie and he hopped in shock at his mother’s sudden appearance.

“Mum? When did you get here?” He asked bewildered. Dorea ignored his question and cupped his face in her palm, her eyes shining in extreme unease.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Why are you so riled up?” He frowned and turned his head gaze away from her.

“Its nothing. I’m fine.” He tried to avoid the conversation, but Dorea wasn’t having it. Bringing her other hand up, she framed his face and met his eyes again.

“No. Tell me. This is not how you normally behave, and it’s worrying me.” He was going to brush her off again, but seeing her troubled expression he thought better of it, he could only sigh in defeat.

“You know how the current climate is mum. It’s just getting worse. This whole blood supremacy movement has always been there, but it was never so overt. This summer thing is suspicious, just look at the guest list. Sacred twenty eight only. This isn’t a party, it’s a recruitment.” He began explaining his thoughts.

“The word gets around in school as well you know. You can tell, all these pureblood families are getting angrier and angrier. Someone’s pushing their buttons, and all that animosity is bleeding into the kids at Hogwarts too. I… I’ve been trying my best to curb it. Dueling, Wizarding Tradition lessons, trying to get everyone to sit with their friends in different houses, anything to relieve tension. But I’m just not sure it’s working.”

“But why has the idea of the party got you so agitated?”

“Because I think this Slytherin guy is the one behind it all. You don’t just pop up as the scion of pureblood dogma in a time of rising civil unrest and call it a coincidence. He’s dangerous, and he’s set his sights on us, and I’m not sure if I can do anything about all this.” He said dejectedly.

“Why is any of this your concern though sweetie? You’re in school still, and there’s a thousand other witches and wizards who’ll step in to stop him if he’s as dangerous as you think he is.” She tried to mollify him, but he shook his head in the negative.

“If I trusted anyone to do anything about it, I wouldn’t be half as worried. But almost everyone in a position of power who’s able to do anything about him is going to be there next summer. They’re going to be of no help when the needle drops. And as for why I’m getting involved – if you could see my broom failing, wouldn’t you try to save me before I crashed?” He implored his mother. Dorea could see she wasn’t getting anywhere, and so switched tactics.

“I get that this has you scared, even if I can’t entirely understand why. But if your convinced that you have to be embroiled in all this, because somehow you’re suddenly clairvoyant, here’s my advice: find out and deal with this before it becomes a bigger problem. Now get to bed, and think about this later, wearing down the hardwood isn’t helpful.” She gently patted him on his cheek, and left the room with that.

Purposely calming himself down and taking a seat on the edge of the bed Ara began to think on Dorea’s advice. ‘Well I already know what the problem is, Voldemort is going to form the death eaters, install them in positions of power and take over magical Britain with a two-fold attack of corruption and terrorism. In the meantime, the ministry is just going to roll over and accept it while people like Dumbledore will be too slow and far too merciful to do anything about it. Only difference is there’s no Harry Potter to save them this time.’

“Man, I really am stupid. Thanks mum.” He said to himself. ‘From what I remember I have five years until shit really starts to hit the fan. In that time I need to really build up my power, both magically and politically. Training is fine and all, but I need to be in a position where I’m able to legally chase after death eaters and take them down. So I guess a ministry job in the DMLE it is. If I can get the authorities to actively label his followers as criminals that would really slow his plans down. But in order to do that I need to get rid of of Dumbledore and his lackeys. I’m not allowing these animals a second chance to repent their wrongs, the innocent people have far more value. Dumbledore forgot about them by the time Voldemort was defeated the for the first time.’ He furiously thought.

“I need a break; I’ll think about this later.” He got up and made his way down to the kitchen for a cup of tea to soothe him. As he descended the final staircase he heard the sound of paper rustling, and the scratching of quill to parchment echoing from the dining table. Sticking to the shadows and peeking in, he found Andromeda sitting by candle light writing what appeared to be a secret letter to someone. 

Congratulating himself for keeping his socks on, he quietly snuck up behind her and started reading over her shoulder. He really wished he hadn’t.

“Merlin almighty! That’s some filthy stuff there.” He whispered loudly. Andromeda was immediately startled and tried her best to cover up what she was writing.

“What are you doing up!? Don’t look!” She pressed her torso on the table to hide her shame, scrounging to collect all the papers. He reached over and managed to pluck the letter she was responding to.

“I want to feel the silky pleasure on my fingers when I run my hand through your curls, the delicious taste of your plump-” He read out loud, Andromeda jumped and snatched it out of his hands. Cradling it to her chest, a deep blush staining her face and neck. They both stared at each other for several moments, before Ara finally broke the silence.

“So… Ted Tonks huh? That’s going to be tough with the family, you know that right?”

“Please don’t tell anyone.” She said in a quiet voice.

“I really like him.” She finally broke her gaze from the floorboards and looked him in the eyes.

“…Do you not approve?” Visibly afraid of what his reaction might be. He just smacked her, hard, on the back of the head, instantly dispelling the tense mood.

“OUCH! What was that for?” she asked rubbing the bump.

“Who do you think you’re talking to here? I’ve already told you; live your life how you want to, and I’ll be there to make sure nobody can say anything to you.” He chastised her. Realizing what he just said, she wiped away a single tear and rushed into his arms. He rubbed her back gently as she sobbed in relief.

“And don’t worry. I asked Ellie Stafford to be my date for the Slug Club, so you won’t be the first to openly associate with ‘lowborn scum’ as Walburga puts it.” She gave a stuffy laugh into his chest. Patting her shoulder and pulling her away from him, he wiped her face and sat her down. 

“Now get back the letter to your Teddy bear as he put it.” She sniffed and nodded.

“Oh and just tell him something from me; if his NEWTs don’t work out I’ll fund him as an author. That’s some raunchy shit he wrote you, every desperate witch in the nation will be clawing to get at that porn that he can so very clearly write. Let me know if he’s interested.” He said grabbing himself a glass of water and heading out the room, leaving Andromeda with a little privacy. She just smiled lovingly at his shenanigans and whispered under her breath.

“Idiot.”


	5. Blame Game

The winter holidays passed without further incident, and soon found everyone returning to Hogwarts on the big red train. While the usual festivities were over and done with, there still remained one more event on the social calendar. The start of term Slug Club party.  
   
It wasn’t an overly formal affair, just a gathering of a few of Slughorn’s favourites, and whoever they chose to attend with. Ara was of course present, escorted by his date for the evening Ellie Stafford. The two were making light conversation, as a hurried Slughorn approached them. To the outside observer he’d seem the same as ever, friendly and boisterous, but the strained smile and rushed demeanor was a clear giveaway to those who knew him better. Ellie tapped her date on the shoulder and brought his attention over to the arriving potions master. Ara immediately picked up on his head of house’s nervous air, and decided to give him his immediate focus.  
   
“Good evening to you both, I hope you’re having a pleasant time. Ms. Stafford I’m glad you could join us tonight. Ara might I have a word in private?” Without even giving them a chance to respond, he fired off his greetings quickly and immediately got down to why he had come over in the first place. Seeing that something was seriously bothering his professor he decided to acquiesce and go along. Putting his hand on his slightly stunned date’s elbow to get her attention, he whispered something in her ear and walked off with Slughorn.  This caused Ellie to sulk a little, not exactly a confidence booster when your escort drops you for an old man; even if it is temporarily. Taking her flute, she drowned the rest of her purple party punch and stomped off to go find some more.   
   
“Easy there, I’m not sure chugging mixed fruit juice is going to do anything, there’s no booze in it. I checked.” Ellie turned to her left to find Bellatrix Black, looking at her with mild confusion and barely concealed apathy. Seeing a viable outlet for her frustration, she decided to respond.  
   
“Where’s your date then? Abandoned him too did you? Is this like a family thing?” Bellatrix was now intrigued. Her face quickly twisted into a teasing smile.  
   
“Well aren’t you just cheery my dearie? What happened? Has my Ara dropped the pretty little head girl and decided to find himself another tart for the night?” Bellatrix mocked her in her grating baby voice.   
   
“If only. He’s absconded off with Slughorn of all people.” She chose to ignore the ridicule, laying out her complaint instead.   
   
Seeing she wasn’t taking the bait Bellatrix dropped the act. Finding that she had nothing better to do, she elected to humour the girl; if only just to pass the time. “Well, considering who you chose to come out with tonight, it really shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’s not focusing all of his attention on you. As far as rumours go, the ones surrounding my cousin are usually semi-accurate at least. And no offense meant, but you’re not really his usual flavour. Not to mention he’s got his eye on someone else, if what I’ve been told isn’t complete hogwash.” She explained to the sullen head girl, who just shook her head.  
   
“I knew that already. It’s precisely why I asked him to accompany me in the first place. I’m not looking for commitment, I just wanted a fun night out for once!” She exclaimed in slight irritation.   
   
“... I wasn’t entirely expecting that.”   
   
“I’ve spent my entire time at Hogwarts with my face stuck to those moldy old tomes in the library, I busted my arse to become a prefect, ace my exams, and now I’m head girl. All of this just to realize that I’ve forgotten to have fun in the process. I’ve wasted my school years chasing after accolades that out there don’t even give me much more than a slight leg up. That anyone who knows the right people can just be handed what I worked so hard to earn!” Bellatrix silently watched as Ellie continued her diatribe, clearly her annoyance ran much deeper than what she originally thought. Plus, It’d be incredibly awkward to try and escape now.  
   
“NEWTs are coming up, and I’m not going to have much time left to make up for all that, unless I decide to throw my last seven years into the bin - which I’m not about to do. So that’s why I made him take me. I was hoping that I might use his reputation, so that I could get to have my fun. He’s owed me for a few years now as well, so I didn’t really give him a choice when I cashed it in. But now here I am, alone, wallowing with a glass of party punch.” Bellatrix stood there a little dumbstruck at how forthright the other girl was being with her intentions, not something you often experience being surrounded by Slytherins all the time. ‘Well in for a penny in for a pound’.   
   
“Ok, well first thing, what do you mean he owes you? He doesn’t exactly go around asking for favours. Avoids them quite religiously actually.” Bellatrix queried.  
   
“I just introduced him to my father, he’d heard somehow that my dad’s in the property business and wanted to meet him. I don’t really know the details but my dad helped him out and he said he owed me. Ask him for clarification I wasn’t really involved, I just used his debt out of desperation.” She explained offhandedly. Bellatrix was increasingly intrigued by her explanation. ‘Ara wanted help from a muggle property man? … odd.’  
   
“You know you could have just used your favour to get him to help you out after Hogwarts right? The old pureblood families aren’t exactly royalty or anything, but we have enough sway that the right word to the right people can open more than a few doors. I’m sure he could pretty much talk you up to a senior official in any job vertical you want, if you’re as worried about all that as you say you are.” Ellie stared at Bellatrix in mild shock.  
   
“... I didn’t even think of that!” She said stupefied.  
   
“Explains why you aren’t Slytherin or Hufflepuff. Ravenclaws, loners, the lot of you. Now listen up, because I’m going to tell you how to handle Ara.” Ellie nodded and gave Bellatrix her full attention.  
   
“When he comes back, you’re going to guilt trip him into rescinding this date as a favour. Use that later. Next you tell him exactly what you told me with respect to what you want out of him tonight. I promise you, he’ll give you exactly what you want and more. So enjoy yourself.” Ellie frowned in concentration as she committed the tactic to memory, Bellatrix seemed like she knew what she was talking about. She focused on the other girl and asked.  
   
“Why are you helping me?”  
   
“Because you’re so utterly pathetic.” Bellatrix replied without batting an eye. Ellie was immediately taken aback by the savage response.  
   
“It’s weird you know? I’ve never helped someone out of pity before. Is this what sympathy feels like? You’re like a dog or something.”  
   
“I-I’m not sure how I feel about that...”   
   
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much doggie. Just go get your bone when my brother gets back.” And with that Bellatrix turned away from the conversation and walked away to find something else to entertain her. Ellie Stafford was left contemplating her new status.  
   
“Wait! Did she just call me a bitch?”  
   
While that was happening, the whisked away Ara was doing his best to calm his professor down.   
   
“You can’t go! You mustn’t. You’re already at heads with Mr. Malfoy, it won’t be safe!” Slughorn gestured passionately.  
   
“I’m fairly certain me pissing off Lucius has no bearing whatsoever. If I went after the Lestranges however, it might be a different story.” Ara tried to pacify the older man. He’d been going on for the last few minutes, doing his best to dissuade him from attending the summer ball. Evidently Sluggy had been invited too, and encouraged to attend on top of that, which only served to spook the easily excitable potions master further.   
   
“This is not a time for jokes!” Slughorn scolded seriously.  
   
“These are powerful people. Dangerous people. You don’t have a gathering of the most influential wizards in Britain just for a cup of tea!” Ara continued to silently listen.  
   
“And If I’m right about who’s going to be introduced, and I know I am, the event will be much more perilous. This is not just a mere social call, everyone who has been called has been chosen for a reason. And I’m worried it’s not a good one.” Slughorn’s voice softened. He reached over a tightly clasped his hands around the younger man’s.  
   
“I’m begging you my boy. Do whatever you have to do to get out of attending.” Slughorn implored desperately. Ara had been growing slowly frustrated at Slughorn’s paranoia, but couldn’t help but set aside his irritation. Heaving a deep sigh and shaking his hands out of Slughorn’s, he focused on him.  
   
“I understand. It’s unsafe. But you must realize I don’t really have a choice. And more than that, even if I don’t go, the rest of the family will. I’d honestly have a worse time leaving them alone in a hostile environment. As arrogant as it sounds, If I’m there I know they’ll be safe.” He patiently explained. Slughorn immediately grimaced, realising that there’s no getting his favourite student out of this.  
   
“It’s bad enough that he already keeps an eye on you, It’s only going to mean he’s even more wary of you once he learns that you attended this sort of affair.” Slughorn quietly said to himself after letting out a forceful breath.   
   
“What do you mean?” He enquired. Slughorn was momentarily sidelined, and cursed himself for his lapse in attention. He wanted to brush this off, but felt vulnerable because of the pressure from so many sides, and decided to confide in his pupil.  
   
“It’s… Dumbledore. He’s one of the very few who have realized the magnitude of whatever’s been happening recently. And he’s worried. He’s seeing battle lines being drawn and is taking stock of his own options. With how things in Slytherin have been this year - and please don’t be insulted- with who your family is, he is extremely wary of you. Any word that you’re at one of these recruitment parties just makes you look even more circumspect.” Slughorn confessed.   
   
‘This is going to be an issue’ Ara thought internally, bringing his arms and crossing them he looked down and frowned in concentration. ‘Damnit old man, why are you worried about a student? Go spend your energy trying to find out who’s already on his team or something, why are you rolling up your sleeves in preparation of getting in my way?’   
   
Ara was growing frustrated with Dumbledore’s attitude. As Harry had gotten older he had reflected on his life and come to realize how large a part the venerable wizard had played in it. Right from his placement with the Dursley’s to his walk down to the forbidden forest in 7th year; Dumbledore was the guiding force behind every major decision in his life. That’s not to say Harry was being groomed for slaughter from day one by a duplicitous evil mastermind; just that so much of the bad in his life could, in one way or the other, be traced back to Dumbledore. It had left a terribly bitter taste in his mouth when he had come to that conclusion, he’d always deeply respected the man.  
   
There’s no doubt that Dumbledore did those things with the best of intentions, but unfortunately Harry's life seemed to be the price Dumbledore chose to pay.   
   
His views on the headmaster probably aren’t entirely fair; after all the man had been heavily involved in two devastating wars in his lifetime and had taken up the reigns for a third as a very old, weary man. But that's not an excuse. At least not a satisfying one. He was the one who put himself in three incredibly influential positions. Positions he could have used to do untold good and prevent so much blood being spilled, if only he had chosen to act proactively instead of when something actually became a problem.   
   
Dumbledore undoubtedly knew what Tom was capable of essentially from the get go, but chose to leave it until it became a festering wound he could no longer ignore. And after Tom fell the first time, he forced forgiveness for so many of the undeserving. Had he just sucked it up and made sure that the murderers on Tom’s side paid for their actions in the war, the likelihood of Voldemort’s second coming would have been immensely reduced, and so many innocents would have been saved the suffering the next time around. Harry wouldn't have had to suffer his life the way it was.   
   
At times it felt like Dumbledore was atoning for his own actions from his youth with Grindelwald and his sister Ariana, as Harry and the greater wizarding world had learnt, by allowing those monsters a second chance; but in the process he forgot the innocents that rightfully deserved their first chance.   
   
To Ara, Albus Dumbledore was a man whose every action was mired in the memories of his past. It sort of explained why he and Snape got along.   
   
It could even be argued that unconsciously Harry’s life was modeled after Tom’s by Dumbledore, in an attempt to vindicate himself and his decisions in the run up to the first blood war. A way for him to ease his aching conscious, by using Harry’s life to prove to himself that there was nothing he could have done to prevent Tom Riddle from turning into what he became.   
   
It was becoming clear to Ara, that even now Dumbledore was fully aware of what was going on but was choosing to sit back and observe for the time being. And for whatever reason he had become someone to look out for in the headmaster’s books.   
   
Ara needed to be careful here, it would get very difficult for him if he got hamstrung by the old man. And it wasn't going to help anybody if he made an enemy out of Dumbledore either. He needed to draw attention away from himself, or at the very least find Dumbledore something else to obsess over.  
   
“What’s wrong? You’ve gone all quiet.” Slughorn pulled his student out of his reverie.  
   
“Hmm well, it’s just a little concerning you know? I wasn’t expecting Dumbledore to be interested in any of this, and certainly not interested in me at all.”   
   
“Yes, Albus does tend to be a little nosy, that's why I’d rather you not be in his periphery at all. He’s most certainly a good man, but if he sets his sights on you, Merlin have mercy because he is so very very persistent. Believe me, I know better than anyone.” Slughorn said in exasperation. Ara’s eyes widened in realization momentarily. ‘Wait a minute! He wants Slughorn’s memory of Tom!’ Ara wanted to smack himself for his stupidity, how could he forget about the Horcruxes? Even if he was the only one who knew they’d be completely useless, he still should have remembered something so important. This was his chance to get Dumbledore off his back and maybe even spook Voldemort in the process.  
   
“You make it sound like he wants something from you.” Ara commented. Slughorn nodded in agreement and frowned into his glass before taking a sip of the fruity punch, and idly fiddled with the cup.  
   
“He does.” Slughorn responded after a minute of silence.  
   
“Then why don’t you give it to him? It doesn't seem like he’d ask if it wasn’t important.” Ara probed the other man. Slughorn started to retreat into himself, uncomfortable with the topic. Seeing that his window was closing Ara took his shot. Casting a look around to make sure nobody was watching, he cast a muffliato charm to hide their conversation. Slughorn took notice and eased his tension a little.  
   
“Ok professor, just hear me out for a moment. I’m going to take a wild guess here and say that whatever Dumbledore wants somehow involves the party, the ‘special guest’ and by extension whatever we think he’s involved with. We both know, that nothing Riddle is doing is good for anyone. So if you know or have something that could help deal with Tom in anyway, it’s not a poor idea to let Dumbledore know. He clearly has a vested interest and is only going to do the right thing.” He tried to convince the older man. Slughorn’s face contorted angrily.  
   
“NO! Albus doesn't know everything! It’s impossible for me to have helped someone do something so heinous and vile!” The potions master shouted, secure that no one would hear him. Ara sighed, he took his professor’s shoulder in hand in an effort to calm him down.  
   
“I think you know that people will surprise you, and usually not in a good way. Whatever it is that you know, I think you realize deep down that Tom will have been capable of it. If you didn’t, it wouldn’t bother you this much. It’s weighing you down because you can’t do anything about it, but if you think Dumbledore can you should tell him.” Ara persisted. Slughorn whimpered slightly as his eyes moistened.  
   
“You… you don’t understand. If my suspicions are confirmed… it means I have blood on my hands Ara.” He said in a shaky voice.   
   
“Then all the more reason for you to tell! You can either put a stop to it now, or wait till the situation gets worse.” He scolded Slughorn lighty who just looked down dejectedly.  
   
“Whatever it might be professor, no one is going to think poorly of you. I promise you that I don’t. You can’t blame yourself for the actions of somebody else, but you can be blamed from keeping information that could stop him committing more atrocities.” Ara compelled the elder man. Slughorn took a deep, shaky breath, and nodded hesitantly.  
   
“... Alright. I’ll tell him. I think it’d be for the best.” Ara cheered internally. He covertly slipped his wand back up his sleeve, happy that he wouldn’t have to resort to using the imperius on his potions professor. Basic survival - always have a plan B.  
   
“That’s great. I’m sure you’ll feel better if you get it off your chest. But if you’ll excuse me I think it’s high time I got back to my date. And you should go mingle, shake off your bad mood; you look like your amortentia stopped smelling like your wife.” Slughorn laughed softly at that.  
   
“Thank you for talking to me my boy. You really do have a knack to get me to stop spiraling, especially this year.” He said with genuine sincerity. Ara looked at him for a moment before turning around and heading off to rejoin Ellie.  
   
“Anything for you professor.” He said leaving. Slughorn continued to watch as the young man walked towards Ms. Stafford, smiling at how caring the boy often was. If he didn’t know any better, he’d be worried at how easily he was charmed by the lad, no one since Tom Riddle had accomplished that.   
   
He kept tracking Ara as he came upon Ellie, who immediately pounced on him and seemed to be exchanging some impassioned words. Slughorn frowned when he realized that he was the cause for that. That frown very quickly turned into a blush as Ellie reached over and grabbed a handful of Ara’s bottom. And after exchanging another quick dialogue proceeded to rush themselves, arm in arm, out of his party.  
   
“Oh my!” He choked out, turning away from the scene in embarrassment.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
The semester continued as normal from then on. January and February had both come and gone. It was now the 5th of April. It was late in the afternoon and classes had just finished for the day, Andromeda, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Sirius were all laid out on the vast lawn. Pandora had joined them and was unloading a picnic basket.  
   
Sirius was sprawled out, spread eagle and let out a loud groan of extreme discomfort. “Oh thank Morgana’s tits there isn’t any training today.”  
   
The Black sisters had half a mind to reprimand him for his vulgarity but were far too drained to bother. They’d just been through a hellish week of training courtesy of Ara, leaving them battered, bruised, and entirely broken.   
   
Pandora finished unloading the food and demurely tucked her legs underneath herself and sat back comfortably.  
   
“It’s a little weird seeing you all together like this.” She received a tired grunt as her response, and wasn’t entirely too sure who supplied it. “I’m assuming Ara ran you all through?” Another ambiguous grunt. Sighing at the lack of intelligent response, she grabbed a Cornish pasty and took a bite. She looked up and squinted at the glaring sun, she was about to shade her eyes with her hand before a long shadow passed over her face. She shifted her gaze and found professor McGonagall staring down at all of them with her usual stern and slightly scolding expression. ‘Resting witch face’ she thought to herself, causing an amused smile to come to tickle her cheeks.  
   
“Would one of you please point me to where Mr. Black is?” She asked in a terse voice.   
   
Sirius not above taking the obvious bait managed to raise his arm and waved. “I’m right here!”  
   
McGonagall huffed a little at that. “You know good and well I’m referring to the other one.”  
   
“Oh my mistake! He’s only nine right now professor, he won’t be joining us till the year after, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait till then.” Sirius chimed in again. Pandora’s giggle managed to break through.  
   
The transfigurations professor immediately lost her temper. “Can someone except him please tell me where I can find Ara Black?” She almost shouted while pointing at Sirius.   
   
Seeing that everybody was too knackered to explain to the irate professor that they themselves had no idea where he was, Pandora decided to take pity and responded instead. “We don’t know, he’s been gone all day. Sorry professor.” She shrugged while saying so.  
   
McGonagall’s last thread of patience snapped. “This is ridiculous! I need to speak to him about the upcoming ball. I’ve been around to each of his lessons and he hasn’t shown up to a single one! This is inexcusable behaviour. Especially for a prefect. Surely one of you must have some clue as to where he might be.” She interrogated the group.  
   
Narcissa was the first to cave in at the stern address, sat up, and answered in a quiet voice. “We really don’t know professor McGonagall.”   
   
Andromeda chipped in. “It’s true, he’s done this disappearing act every year we’ve been at Hogwarts. Whenever April rolls around he just vanishes for a day or two, no one knows where or why.”  
   
Bellatrix rested herself on her shoulder to look up at everyone else from her position. “He’s been doing this long before we even came to school. Used to drive aunt Dorea absolutely spare. I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to wait for him to show himself. It shouldn’t be later than the day after tomorrow.” And with that she promptly closed her eyes continued with her respite.   
   
McGonagall left quickly following the end of the discussion. Steaming, not unreasonably, at her fruitless search for the wayward Black.  
   
“She’s going to tear him a new one when he gets back isn’t she?” Sirius asked while watching the professors retreating form.  
   
“Without a doubt.” Andromeda confirmed, as she too lay back down.  
   
Meanwhile, Ara was currently lounging on an old sofa in a, seemingly, abandoned home. His head was resting on the armrest, while his feet dangled off the tatty two seater’s other end. He brought the straw of his cup up and took a loud, long sip of his strawberry milkshake. Smacking his lips in satisfaction he set the styrofoam cup down and picked up the last chip from his paper cone of fish and chips.   
   
This sparsely furnished home located in a residential area in the muggle part of Edinburgh was somewhere he had only recently managed to purchase this past summer. He’d needed it done discreetly, since he didn’t want anyone else to know about it, and had done so with the help of Ellie Stafford’s father. He sincerely hoped that Ellie enjoyed their night together, because he really did. Easily top five.  
   
This specific house was freshly on the market after the previous tenant decided to finally pack up and sell it off. He’d been trying to buy it for the last three years - pretty much the day he got Mr. Stafford’s contact information - and had finally succeeded in wearing the old owner down this last summer. Leaving the house now officially in his name. Turns out it’s not impossible to buy your own landed property at fifteen as long as you have enough money. Who would’ve thought?  
   
The reason he had been adamant in buying this specific house, was because it was the home he once lived in with Andromeda and Teddy when he was Harry Potter. The Tonks family home.  
   
Over the course of his time as Ara, he had understood - and to a certain extent - come to terms with the fact that his mere presence in this timeline had altered the sequence of events irrevocably. He didn’t know if Nymphadora, Luna, or any of his other friends would ever be born. He didn’t know if the Weasleys would end up having the same family. He didn’t know if Harry’s parents would ever get together. But what he did know, was that his beloved son Teddy would never be born. He knew this, because when he accomplished what he came back to do, circumstances wouldn’t allow it. As long as he didn’t completely fuck it up, there would be no second blood war, which would mean there would be no need for Teddy’s parents to ever get with each other.   
   
Finding this out, and leaving Luna had been his two greatest regrets.   
   
So every year, on the anniversary of Teddy’s death Ara removed himself from his normal life and secluded himself to mourn the loss of those that one day could have been. Should have been.  
   
A day just for Harry Potter.   
   
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a definite air of tension surrounding the final week at Hogwarts. But that soon lifted, and Hogwarts as a collective breathed a sigh of relief as O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. week was officially over. The smell of frantic depression was diffused by the excitement surrounding the first annual Hogwarts Summer Solstice Ball.  
   
This event organized by McGonagall and Ara, with more than a little help from the resident house elves was well underway. The ball was being held on the great lawn during the early afternoon. It was the Saturday before the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to leave for another year.   
   
The perimeter of the cordoned venue was surrounded by alternating bushels of boom berry shrubs and Niffler’s fancy, courtesy of professor Sprout. Wooden tables were strewn about in an organized chaos, tables of different foods piled high were to the back, and a large part of the lawn was left free to dance around the lit bonfire. Schools of brightly coloured fairy and pixies flittered about, drowning in the exuberant, and happy magic being emanated from all around. Students blissfully danced, ate, spoke, and hung out without reservation. There was no talk of status, no talk of houses, just an exhilarating mood of merry.   
   
Professor McGonagall made her way to the front of the bonfire and raised her arms to gain everyone’s attention. As the merrymakers focused on her, she reveled in the faces of joy and the atmosphere of fun that she found terribly infectious.   
   
“I want to take this moment to thank each and every one of you for your attendance to the first ball held at Hogwarts in over a hundred years. It brings me immense delight to look upon this sea of faces, and for the first time in I don’t know how long, witness camaraderie and cheer.” McGonagall took a pause from her address as the population gave a resounding applause.  
   
“We celebrate this holiday in anticipation of a successful harvest and fertility; we use it as a time to recognize and respect our equality as magical peers; and to honour our families, hearths, and homes. We show this by shedding our usual finery, and adorn only the simplest of robes and dresses, so that we may feel the magic here freely wash over us and sink our feet into the grass below. And I am so glad that all of us here have taken the effort to do just that. And I hope that we are able to continue this next year and establish a new tradition at Hogwarts.” Everyone quietly listened as she explained the significance of the festival. McGonagall swiftly raised her goblet and shouted loudly “CHEERS!” a gesture that was eagerly returned boisterously by everyone.  
   
Finishing her speech, McGonagall made her way through the party, trading pleasantries with approaching students and colleagues alike, thanking her for the event and congratulating her on her success. Even the originally sceptical Dumbledore, was now happily enjoying some cake as pixies braided flowers into his beard.   
   
Minerva was actively looking around for Ara. None of this would have been possible without his help, so she wanted to personally convey her gratitude. In all honesty, she had never suspected that the slytherin son of the Black family would have been anything like he was. Peering around the milling crowds, she saw students from all houses mingling and having a generally good time, but hadn’t managed to spot him. She even tried to spot him around the larger gatherings of girls, his reputation was apparently very well earned, but still had no luck. McGonagall finally managed to spot him standing by himself at a table in a far corner of the clearing, dawning a melancholic smile, carefully studying the entire scene. She hesitated momentarily at the alien expression on his face. He normally showed condescending stoicism, and sometimes hints of amusement as well, but nothing like this.  
   
Ara noticed her and made his approach. He gently tapped her on her back and left his hand there. “Professor McGonagall, I’m glad I found you. I just wanted to say thank you for this.”  
   
“That’s what I had actually come over to say myself. I don’t think we’d even be here if it wasn’t for your proposal.” She replied in kind.  
   
He just shook his head a little while still smiling. “Nevertheless, just thanks for sticking your neck out on this. Not many people would have done that. I think the results speak for themselves.” Ara once again brought his sights up to the party, he found Andromeda and Pandora happily dancing together around the fire. Sirius, his old parents and some of the other first years were all hunkered over table laden with food happily chatting away, Narcissa, Snape, and Skeeter were with them also. He even saw Bellatrix sat down with Ellie Stafford. He smiled wistfully again and thought ‘This is what I came back for. I’m not sure when the next time I’ll get to see this will be, but this is what I’m protecting now. I promise Tom, you won’t take this away from me.’   
   
Pulling himself out of his reverie, he noticed that McGonagall and he’d gone into a companionable silence, he followed the line of her gaze and found her staring at the dancing couples around the fire. Without further preamble, he applied a small pressure on her back and guided her towards the fire.   
   
“Where are we going?” She asked, jolted by his sudden insistence.   
   
“We’re going for a dance. Come on.” He grabbed her hand pulled her into position, and although she was initially reluctant, they both quickly settled into rhythm together and performed their turn. She returned his bow as they came to the end of their dance, slightly flushed from the sudden exercise, as well as the attention they’d garnered from the surrounding party.   
   
Just as she was about thank him a voice sounded from behind her. “Mind if I cut in?” It seemed Pandora Stern had come around for her own turn. McGonagall handed him over to the young girl, and left the two teenagers to it. They’d stayed together for the remainder of the party.  
   
As the evening was drawing to a close, Ara and Pandora, were still slowly swaying together. “You dance really well” she softly sighed into his shoulder, her arms circled around his neck, playing with the hair on the back of his head.  
   
“Mum.” Was his one-word response. Pandora couldn’t help it as a smile graced her lips, this just felt so good, so right. “So when are you finally going to do it?”   
   
“Do what?” he answered, confused the at her question.  
   
“Ask me out.” She simply put out. He immediately stiffened and their easy comfort was broken. Lifting her head from it’s place on his shoulder, she looked up at his bewildered expression. This caused a frown to mar her previously pleased appearance.  
   
Ara floundered for an explanation, or just someway to stall this conversation. Pandora mattered too much to him, he sorely wanted to be with her, but his track record of serious relationships wasn’t something that inspired any level of confidence in him. And even if he had accepted that change was inevitable, he couldn’t help but shake off the thought that he was selfishly abandoning Luna again, by getting with her mother.   
   
He couldn’t keep the conflict from showing on his face and Pandora immediately latched onto it. “What is it?” she impatiently bit out. She just couldn’t see why he was hesitating with her like this. She was certain about their mutual affection; it was inescapable to her.  
   
“I don't want to mess this up!” He blurted out. “I don’t want to screw this up. I’m sure I’ll do it some way or the other, and I don’t think I could stand losing you because of that.” He finished in a quiet voice.  
   
Pandora just looked at him for a moment and eventually said “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You don’t want to make a mistake so you won’t even try?” He looked so unsure in that moment, Pandora was taken aback. He was always so self assured, did the prospect of ruining his relationship with her truly scare him that much? How do you even stay angry at someone like that? Relenting her piercing gaze, she once again lowered her head to his shoulder, and a moment later they were once again moving together.  
   
“Listen to me very carefully Ara. I don’t know how things will be with us, because as much as I would like to be, I’m not a seer. But what I can tell you, is that as long as you don’t want it to, our relationship, romantic or otherwise will always be an important part of our lives. I’ll make sure of it; even when you’re as stupid as you’re being right now. So stop holding back and tell me what you really want.” She did her best to convince him, and by the feeling of his arms tightening around her back and being pulled flush into his chest, she’d succeeded.  
   
“You promise?” He whispered into her ear, sounding like a small child. She was staring at him again, and he looked so vulnerable. Bringing her palm back to cradle his cheek, she looked him square in the eyes determinedly stated. “I promise.”  
   
He studied her eyes, looking for even a sliver of doubt, but saw none. Letting go of his own hesitation he finally pulled her in and brought their lips together in a kiss that he’d been longing for far too long, and she melted into him immediately, like she’d been wanting to. All. Damn. Year.   
   
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All too soon, Ara once again found himself in front of his mirror assessing his outfit. Full formal robes this time.   
   
He’d spent the entirety of his summer break thus far holed up in the training chambers, putting himself through the strictest regiment he could concoct for himself. He wasn’t about to take any chances at the Lestrange ball. He would’ve like to spend some quality time with his - finally - girlfriend Pandora, but she was visiting her grandparents in America. They did their best to make up for it with almost nightly floo calls though.   
   
Currently however, his train of thought was on a different tangent. It was finally the night of the Lestrange gala. He, along with Andromeda, Bellatrix, and the rest of the adults were set to attend. The kids were being left behind under the care of Kreacher.   
   
Dorea entered her son’s room to fetch him for the party. He’d been anxious about it since Yule, and it was alarmingly evident in his behaviour this summer. She’d considered calling the whole thing off on account of his strange demeanour, but he’d hear none of it. He was intent on going despite the fact that he clearly didn’t want to. She chose not to dwell on it any longer, there wasn’t any getting out of it now.  
   
“Are you ready dear?” He didn’t turn back or acknowledge her in any way. Just continued to burn a hole in his reflection. He closed his eyes and drew in a long breath to fortify himself. ‘This is it’   
   
“Yeah. Let’s go.”


	6. Monster

Thunderous cracks sounded as the Black contingent apparated at their destination. Moving together they passed the wrought iron gates proudly displaying the Lestrange family insignia, and made their way up towards the opulent mansion.

 

The mood was subdued during the trek. Ara had made no effort to hide his trepidation in any way and it affected those around him just the same. With the exception of Walburga, of course - who was more than expressive with her bubbling excitement while leading the pack towards the main door.

 

Reaching the entrance, the door opened automatically before anyone even had a chance to grab the knocker. Everyone looked down to find a beleaguered house elf ushering them in.

 

“Wands.” The little elf rasped out, extending its gangly arm. Although disgruntled at having to forego their wands for the evening, it was a stipulation the Lestranges insisted on. If he wasn’t already on edge, having to surrender his main weapon just before heading into what was most assuredly hostile territory would have done the trick all on its own.

 

Having a back-up wand was out of the question as well, there’s no messing about with old family wards in place.

 

Receiving each of their wands, the elf shuffled back and led them into the large, ostentatious ballroom where the party was being held. The group broke up, as each made their way over to their own acquaintances. Sparing a glance towards the women, Ara saw them heading towards a sequestered area that had a large group of the wives and daughters all huddled around each other.

 

Ara stood stiff as he carefully surveyed the party. Not spotting Voldemort, he breathed a small sigh of relief. ‘ _Thank Merlin for small mercies._ ’ His attention was soon caught by an uncomfortable looking Slughorn, waving him over from behind a barricade of other men. Ara strode forward, taking a tumbler of firewhiskey off of a floating tray as he approached them.

 

“Professor.” He said lifting the glass of alcohol in greeting towards the older men before draining his drink in a single gulp.

 

“Whoa! Easy there, lad!” One of Slughorn’s companions jumped at the teenager’s behaviour. Ara’s face stained red as he refused to let a cough through, blowing out a trail of smoke after swallowing.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m just catching up.” Ara responded, he stuck out his hand to the other person. “Ara Black, I don’t believe we’ve met before.” The handsome, blond haired, blue eyed man hesitantly clasped hands with Ara.

 

“Nice to meet you, son. I’m Marlon McKinnon.” He gave a reassuring smile to the obviously tense teen and introduced himself.

 

“Don’t you mean _Lord_ McKinnon?” A dark haired man with his face almost completely disappearing behind a forest of thick beard and moustache sarcastically scoffed out. He was scowling at the rest of the room with arms crossed.

 

McKinnon looked sternly at him for a moment, and then continued with introductions. “The surly gentleman next to me is Gaston Gamp. And the quiet gentleman here is Sever Selwyn.” Marlon gestured to the third man with light blonde hair and a gentle look on his face. Selwyn shot Ara a smile and lifted his glass towards him in greeting.

 

Ara nodded at the men in thanks. “So. How’s the party so far?” Ara asked, Slughorn was about to chime in with a standard polite response for the sake of appearances before Gaston Gamp cut in.

 

“A real fucking bore.” He spat out none too politely, yet quiet enough that none of the surrounding attendees would hear anything untoward being discussed in their conversation. The two other men chuckled at Gamp’s vicious response.

 

Slughorn immediately started, almost chocking on his drink. “We-well I wouldn’t necessarily say _that_.” Slughorn hastily threw in. Nervously peering around to find out if anybody had heard, or worse, taken offense at the statement.

 

“He’s right though, this entire thing is about as fun as trying to get an extra knut off a Goblin.” Selwyn rebutted Slughorn.

 

“Just look around Black. It’s a complete circus.” Marlon McKinnon gestured behind them towards the rest of the attendees. Ara looked around, and spotted two men who looked suspiciously like Crabbe & Goyle bowing to each other and gesturing elaborately – exclamations of “My lord! My lord! My lord? Hahaha My lord!” were heard coming from the pair, and not just a few in the surrounding party seemed to be mimicking similarly.

 

Ara turned back to his companions with a baffled look on his face, that seemed to be silently asking ‘ _What the fuck is this?_ ’ McKinnon shrugged and took a long pull of his drink, mirroring Ara’s confusion.

 

“They’re acting like a bunch of damn caricatures out there! Calling each other _my lord_ , and unnecessarily spouting all that nonsensical, outdated, ridiculous, old-world pureblood drivel. They’ve all gone and lost their damn minds if you ask me.” Grumbled Gamp gruffly.

 

Using the silence the statement caused as an opportunity, Sever Selwyn snuck in with his own speculation. “I myself am rather astounded that you aren’t a part of the festivities Mr. Black.” He addressed Ara, his face affable yet his tone suspicious.

 

All four men were focused in on Ara now, anticipating the response from the young man who belonged to one of the most decidedly dark households, and should reputedly be falling in quite comfortably with the aforementioned ilk. Ara merely shrugged off the response. “I don’t particularly fancy being a boot-licker.”

 

Gamp snorted at his simple riposte. “Aye, I bet you don’t. I’ve heard tell ‘bout you from old Sluggy here, and my own lad also.” He said pointing to the increasingly shifty Slughorn.

 

Ara’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh! You’re Casper’s father, sorry for not realizing sooner.”

 

Gaston waved off the apology. “No worries, wouldn’t expect you to. Slug here’s floundering too much to help out with proper intros. But do tell me how you’ve got my boy so charged up, Cas hasn’t left the dueling room this entire summer.”

 

“My own Selena has taken quite zealously as well.” Selwyn spoke up once more. “Not with you though, more with Bellatrix I believe. Although, you’re not without mention either.”

 

Ara managed to make another connection; apparently Sever was the father of the first year Bellatrix had taken ‘ _under wing’_ this past year. “You’re fairly calm for a man who’s eleven-year-old daughter is suffering from Stockholm syndrome under a complete maniac.”

 

Selwyn chuckled dryly into his drink at Ara’s facetious remark. Before he had the opportunity to continue the verbal spar McKinnon managed to cut in. “What do you mean by that? Boot-licker?”

 

“The guest of honour’s. That’s what he’s eventually going to require from everyone here isn't it? Just by us being here he’s already started on getting us to do what he wants. I don’t even want to be here but I’m forced to be here anyway on the _invitation_ of some unknown bloke.” Selwyn seemed affronted at this response.

 

“He’s not just some _unknown_ , he’s _Slytherin._ ” Selwyn pointed out almost petulantly.

 

“So? You just go wagging your tail off for any Tom or Harry who calls themselves Slytherin?” Ara rebutted immediately. Selwyn looked immediately put upon by the rude response.

 

“Maybe not the right wording there lad, but you do have to admit to at least having some level of interest here. It’s not everyday you get to meet the descendant of a founder now is it?” McKinnon broke in diplomatically.

 

“And that’s exactly my point. This stranger just drops a founder’s name and you all come flocking, you’re all already playing into his hand.” Both Selwyn and McKinnon were considered the implications of Ara’s point of view. Meanwhile, Gamp came to his own conclusion.

 

“You know who he is. Not just who says he is.” It wasn’t so much a question, rather a statement. Ara turned his attention back to Gamp. Unsure of what to do he dropped a quick questioning glance at Slughorn.

 

Sensing his students question - _Can we trust them? -_ Slughorn pondered for a moment and followed with a small, resolute, affirmative nod.

 

“I do. I won’t go into specifics, not here at least. But I will say this: he’s lying to you. Everyone here’s being fooled.” All three men conferred silently with each other at Ara’s declaration, none of them missed the exchange between him and Slughorn; so while Ara could be brushed aside as some troublemaker schoolboy, Slughorn’s information was not to be taken lightly.

 

Selwyn turned spokesperson for the trio. “Let’s say the three of us - and maybe a few other friends of ours - wanted to know more. Would you be amenable for dialogue sometime?”

 

“Give me a time and a place. I’ll be there.” Ara answered instantly. Suddenly Slughorn let out an uncomfortable whimper.

 

“He’s here.” All heads snapped to where Slughorn indicated. A low murmur set over the crowd, as they parted to make way for a collection of five wizards and witches. Ara wasn’t able spot who he was looking for immediately.

 

At the head of the parade was an extremely severe looking older gentlemen, hair a clean white – Randolph Lestrange. Following immediately behind him were his two sons Rodolphus and Rabastan, both oozing smug satisfaction at being part of the attention, and trailing behind them was Renata Lestrange simpering with superiority as she did her level best to catch the eye of every single witch in her line of sight.

 

There. There he was, on her arm as she steered him down the passage. Thomas Slytherin, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Lord Voldemort.

 

Ara tensed noticeably; not that anybody noticed – too busy beholding the guest of honour. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to lunge. His muscles, his hormones, they fought rabidly against his consciousness to pounce at the man – no, the monster. But he remained still, his fists clenched, and he ground his teeth, but he did not move from where he stood.

 

He watched Tom strolling alongside the woman. Her arm tucked snugly beneath his own, with his free hand pressed gently atop hers. He watched Tom, basking in his own presence; a cordial yet confident smile furnished his face. For that was what it was – simple decoration masking the true face of the beast that hid underneath. He watched Tom, a far removed visage from the pale monstrosity Harry had encountered at the climax of the Tri-Wizard tournament. In his place stood the older, gracefully aged version of the phantom he met in the Chamber of Secrets.

 

Suddenly, almost as if sensing the malice pouring out, Tom glanced over at the teenager staring at him with a steely glare. He smirked as their eyes met, and for a short moment, the world went mute. Tom – _No! Voldemort!_ He reminded himself, seemed inexplicably drawn to the young man, he could almost taste the familiarity. But funnily enough couldn’t place the boy – but the boy certainly seemed to have been able to place him. Voldemort was just about to probe the young man’s mind, but was drawn away when Renata motioned him forward to take his place.

 

All eyes were on him now, or at least those that could see. Squaring his shoulders, he kept his easy demeanor as he glided to a more central area to stand. Keeping both hands where they were entirely visible to those who were watching, he waved an empty palm at the floor – and where once there was nothing, an ornate podium materialized. Without braking stride, he climbed on to it, and once more gazed at the sea of awed faces. Taking a deep breath, he begun his monologue.

 

“There are many of you here who have met me before. Not all. But a good number of you I’ve spoken to previously, so as to give you a good measure of who I am. For the rest of you, who’ve no doubt heard tell of me but not yet had the opportunity to witness me in person – it is by the good grace of the Lestranges that we have that occasion today. As I stand here before you, I am Thomas Slytherin.”

 

He paused to let that sink in, a hush of whispers spread. “As I look down upon you all, I see the undeniable features of proper, pureblood breeding. I see the poise, the bearing, and the composure you have all learned at the feet of my ancestor within the hallowed halls of the Slytherin dungeons. Everyone sees it! It seeps out of each one of you: the attitude, the style, the pride. If only my dear ancestors could see you now.” The purebloods couldn’t help the pleased expressions and the sweeping murmurs of assent. There is absolutely nothing like a validation of their core beliefs, to successfully stroke someone’s ego.

 

Voldemort’s previously charming façade faded into abject disgust at their self satisfaction. “They’d see just how _pathetic_ you all have become!” Stunned, disbelieving silence followed by ripples of affront and outrage.

 

Losing his patience with the jeering crowd almost immediately, Voldemort loudly hissed out. “ _SSSSS_ SILENCE!” Through a combination of his sheer vitriol, and the revelation of his _parselmouth_ abilities, Voldemort once more masterfully dominated the room. Ara was one of the only not to flinch; already aware of the skill. The others were the heads of the Lestrange, Malfoy, Avery, Mulciber, Nott, and Rosier, Ara carefully surveyed – due largely in part to their complete absence of shock.

 

“H-he’s speaks _parseltongue_! He’s really Slytherin!” Someone screeched out in shrill panic.

 

“So the bleedin’ hell what! Slytherin or whatever, no one dares call me pathetic! Fuck you, you hissy slab of steaming erumpent shit!” A very angry, and very drunk man roughly bulldozed his way through the press of bodies, till he stood right in front of the podium.

 

To say Voldemort was irritated would be an understatement, but instead of erupting in anger he chose this moment to issue a lesson to all watching. He didn’t respond immediately, waiting till the questioning whispers picked up in momentum, and the few potential dissenters started looking braver at the perceived hesitance of the guest of honour. And just when another stream of venom was about to spill from the drunk’s lips Voldemort made his move.

 

Moving unnaturally swiftly, Voldemort shot quickly forward and had the collar of the drunk’s robes firmly in his impossibly strong grip. He pulled down hard and he twisted the robe around the drunk, wandlessly transfiguring it into something much heavier, and much more alive.

 

A loud gasp of panic passed through the bystanders as they hurriedly backed away from the ensuing confrontation. Suddenly the drunk was wrapped tightly in the embrace of a very large and terrifying snake. It’s iridescent green scales coiling tightly around the now madly screaming man, who had just managed to realize what had happened, and began thrashing around desperately, yelling his increasingly pressured lungs out to _‘GET IT OFF!’._

 

Hissing loudly once more for all to hear, Voldemort instructed the snake to coil another length of it’s body around the drunk’s face to muffle his incessant wailing. “When I say silence, I mean it.” He said conversationally to the stunned audience as a drunk man being constricted to death by a snake thrashed frantically at his feet.

 

Voldemort strode closer to the struggling form on the floor, his expensive dress shoes almost tickling the man’s ear, and stared down at him dispassionately. Tears streamed from his bulging eyes, chest heaving in massive effort as he futilely attempted to draw breath. With a loud snap, the sound of his bones succumbing to the pressure of the serpent’s muscles reverberated throughout the quieted hall. Voldemort stared into the man’s eyes, ensuring his point got across - a moment that lasted a lifetime for the drunk. And then with a dismissive wave and a final hiss, Voldemort vanished the snake.

 

He shifted his gaze to focus on the observing crowd in front of him, ignoring the harsh, wheezing, greedy breaths that dissolved into quiet sobs beside him.

 

“Is that it then? A single tantrum?” he goaded, baring his teeth in animosity towards the assembly. Turning his back towards them he again glided up the podium. Spreading his arm wide he began his speech anew.

 

“Is this your vaunted pureblood supremacy? I’ve entered your homes. I’ve spat in your faces. And what have you done in retaliation? NOTHING! Merely sent over a useless fool to do your work for you, while you sat back and watched as I put him down like muggle filth!” Like chastised children, the ‘elite’ of the wizarding world could do nothing but bow their heads and swallow their anger.

 

“Is it any wonder that mudbloods and blood traitors run roughshod over us? We see them enter OUR world. Year after year they come in droves, and being the good people that we are we share with them our magic. But that isn’t enough for them. Like rats on a fresh corpse they devour everything. They eat away at our resources. They step on our traditions - call us ‘barbarians’ because we live our lives separate from the corruption of muggle madness. THEY SSSTEAL _OUR_ MAGIC!” Voldemort poured power into his words he spoke, the end of his sentence echoing loudly off the walls.

 

Nearly all in attendance entirely forgot their outrage at the man before them. Voldemort smirked internally at their shocked and appalled expressions. It really was rather easy sometimes. You take a gathering of people; point out their insecurities in the most demeaning way possible - really take them right up to their breaking point; and finally, point the finger at someone else to watch the sparks fly.

 

“And we shan’t blame them either, for it is in their nature to be voracious beasts. No! The blame lies with all of you who simply bend over and bare your necks for slaughter! You have all deluded yourselves. You no longer have power! Just children led astray by your arrogance.” Steadily and with complete control, Voldemort lowered his volume and softened his tone, choosing to reflect resigned disappointment where there was previously anger.

 

“I believe it is now finally time for the parent to take responsibility for the child. This is why I am here. This is why I have been called upon by your peers and siblings. To finally return you all to the bosom of Slytherin, and once more guide you to the destiny you all so richly deserve.” He crooned to the crowd in deep dulcet tones. And slowly, ever so slowly, he brought his arms up. Uncurling his long, sharp fingers one by one, he extended his palms out to the crowd.

 

And like a mother beckoning her child for embrace after a scolding, the crowd moved forward. They reached out, an ocean of hands, they reached for him with tears in their eyes, and hearts free. And Voldemort welcomed them, he basked in the frantic rush, the pleading and yelling to save them, to help them. Hands spread all over his body as if ready to tear every inch of him entirely to shreds, but with unnatural care he was handled as if he was the most fragile, precious ornament.

 

“We stand here all with purpose now! To redeem ourselves and redeem OUR World! But we must be careful, cautious. We need to wholeheartedly absorb what it means to be Slytherin. Our faces, our names cannot, must not, see the light until the sun that we stand under is of our very own making. So in that endeavor I am no longer Thomas Slytherin. I will become what we need. I am a moniker. I am a symbol. I. AM. LORD. VOLDEMORT!” A resounding cheer of triumph spread through the hall. Pompous, pristine purebloods devolved into rabid fanatics frothing at the mouth for blood.

 

But all that raucous noise was lost to Ara. Only the incessant high pitched whine of shock squealing in his ears. He saw the maddened crowd scrambling for Voldemort, and in that crowd he saw them as well. His own family had fallen under the spell. Even his own mother and grandparents were giving considerable looks towards Voldemort. Andromeda was visibly nervous, but Ara saw no anger, no disgust, none of the reactions he was truly hoping for. And Bellatrix stood transfixed, cheeks heated red and chest heaving, an unmistakable sparkle in her eyes.

 

Immediately he felt sick. The bile in his stomach rose up, the acrid fluid burnt its way up his chest and throat. Swallowing it all down painfully, he brought the sleeve of his robes to wipe the profuse sweat collecting at his hairline.

 

He was having trouble breathing. Short, sharp, shallow breaths struggled to escape his lungs. He took halting steps, his eyes swimming disorientated, looking for any indication of a loo anywhere.

 

Finding the lone corridor across the hall, he adhered to the wall and stumbled his way ahead, careful to avoid catching anyone’s attention. As he miserably trudged on he missed the concerned stare of Andromeda following him. Turning to her side and grabbing Dorea’s attention, she quickly called out in a hushed whisper that something is wrong with Ara and she’s off to make sure he’s alright. Lifting her robes ever so slightly to reduce any obstruction, she hurriedly followed his hobbling form.

 

Just as she rounded the entrance to the corridor, she saw a flash of bright light as Ara disappeared behind the solid wood door that led to the bathroom. Slowing her pace, she approached the door. Gently she placed her hand on the wooden surface and leaned into it with her ear to hear what was going on inside.

 

She heard the unmistakable sound of someone vomiting violently, loud sloshing as the sick hit the water in the bowl. Immediately concerned she lifted her fist to knock at the door and call out to him. But just as her knuckles were about to impact the wood, a hand tightly clasped around her wrist and yanked her to the side.

 

“Well ‘Ello there poppet!” Rabastan LeStrange roughly pulled her across the corridor, he pushed her back against the marble wall hard, her hip clipping the side of an ornate Victorian pedestal causing it to shudder and almost topple the gilded Roman vase on it. Pressing himself up tight against her, trapping her in between him and the wall. He leaned in close, and in the darkness Andromeda managed to get a better look at him. Flushed cheeks and ruddy nose, half lidded eyes, with the burning stench of whiskey on his breath. He was drunk as a sailor on shore leave.

 

Ara looked down into the bowl covered in his mess, his eyes were irritated and red from the strain of vomiting and the acidic fumes of his puke. His hands were clutching the rim of the bowl and his head hovered over the opening. His back arched, core and throat tensing he gave one last silent heave, but nothing came out. He spat out the last bits of vomit still in his mouth. Taking a breath to steady himself, he pushed up from the bowl, reaching ahead he flicked the flush lever and immediately the mess was vanished - no water just magic - leaving the porcelain immaculate.

 

Staggering over to the unnecessarily large sink, he tapped the the rune for water carved into the purposely rough granite counter top. A steady stream of perfectly tempered water flowed out of the elaborate gold faucet. Cupping his hand and reaching into the stream, he scooped water into his mouth, rinsing out and spitting until he felt fresh again.

 

He took a moment to stare at his tired, disheveled form in the mirror. His reflection imitated him for a moment before sending a meek smile back. “Didn’t think it’d be so hard seeing him again huh?” The real Ara just sighed and nodded resignedly back.

 

Turning - the once again - gilded knob to step out into the corridor, he heard the sounds of a nearby scuffle. The distinct impression of shifting clothes, and whispered grunts signaled the less than pleasant nature of whatever meeting was happening. Unable to stem his curiosity, Ara stuck to the shadows while inching his way towards the noise. Anything to avoid having to go back outside to face him.

 

He didn’t see what was immediately happening in the darkness. He saw a decidedly feminine figure being roughly held against the wall by a much larger male figure, whose free hand held the girl at wand point. Given that the only people allowed to carry wands within the wards were Lestranges, Ara was sure it was either Rodolphus or Rabastan. He was unconcerned about the identity of the man for now, what he was trying harder to determine was who the woman was. Whoever she was, she was extremely unhappy with her current position. He crept closer, sticking like tar to the darkness to not give away his position.

 

The nearer he got, the more details he began to notice about the scene. He saw the male’s burly hand pressing down hard on the the girl’s shoulder, sticking her to the wall. She was using both her hands to desperately grab on and push away the offending hand on her shoulder. Lestrange had his chest pressed hard against hers with the glowing tip of his wand pointed at her temple. His leg kicked out and he shoved his thigh and knee in between the struggling girl’s legs, causing her dress to ride up slightly and her stance to spread. It was clear to see his intentions with the girl.

 

Ara’s plan was to simply startle Lestrange into realizing he wasn’t as hidden as he thought, and go about his way without either party figuring out that Ara was interfering. But he squashed that idea as soon as he saw that Andromeda was the one being held down.

 

“Let go of me!” Andromeda growled out with all the anger she was currently feeling. She winced as he squeezed the tender flesh on her shoulder harder. Rabastan just smirked at her as he drew the wand even closer to her head, Andromeda could only jerk her head away from the offending spell on its tip.

 

“Stop squirming you! Just do as your told, it’ll be easier that way.” Rabastan hissed at her playfully.

 

“I don’t know who the bloody hell you think you are, but you aren’t going to get away with this! You think my family won’t notice that I’m gone? And even if you do get your jollies now, what do you think is going to happen to you later? You’ll be lucky to have your life at the end of this!” Andromeda bit at him in an effort to both threaten and reason with him.

 

Rabastan stalled his advance and looked almost sober for a moment as he stared at her in utter surprise. But almost immediately, he broke into a fit of whispered giggles, forcing him to duck his head and rest it on the side of Andromeda’s head to halt himself from laughing out loud. “Yo-you don’t know?” he got out breathlessly from in between his silent laughs. “I thought you were just playing coy with me! You’re actually struggling genuinely! That’s jumpin’ hilarious!” He resumed his hushed laughter.

 

Andromeda grew increasingly frustrated, lost at what he found humorous in the situation. She once more tried pushing him off, feeling his grip slackening as his belly undulated in his guffaws. “What the fuck is so funny!” She spat, recognizing there was no way of getting out of the much stronger boy’s hold.

 

“You think you’re family’s looking for you? They’re the ones who sent me your way! Our families have been in betrothal talks Andromeda. For Merlin’s sake, do you not pay attention to what’s going on in your own home?” He said calmly in a mirthful cadence.

 

“Bellatrix for Roddy, and you for me. That’s the gist of the deal. And while Rodolphus is happy kissing the ground your sister walks on, I’m more the type to take a test flight before buying the broom.” He explained jovially, renewed in his vigor to get on with the task.

 

Andromeda stared at him in stunned disbelief. _“That’s not possible. They wouldn’t!”_ She bargained with herself. “ _Mummy would never. Father he- he’d only do it if there was something to gain, but this? Dorea? No. Not Granny or Arcturus. Orion-only if someone told him to, like Wal…Walburga would. Walburga did._ ” Andromeda stared up at Rabastan, pleading with him as her ability to resist fell away and her fortitude crumbled. Tears finally overflowed.

 

Rabastan was thoroughly enjoying her devastation as the reality of her position sunk in. His tone amused he responded. “Come now Andromeda. No need for tears. Or keep crying actually. Might enjoy myself even more that way!” She felt the sickening tendrils of his oily breath on her neck. He took a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the sweet perfume Andromeda was wearing.

 

“Please don’t” she plead one last time in a severely quieted voice. She heard only another deep chuckle. She turned her face away from him, eyes shut tight and lips quivering. Her tears pooling at her chin and finally falling down on to her shaking chest as she mutely sobbed.

 

Abandoning all notion of stealth Ara ran up to Rabastan and wrenched his head from Andromeda by chocking him on his collar. Rabastan gagged at the sudden pressure on his throat and let go of his grip on Andromeda. Before he could finish wheezing, Ara reared his fist back and struck Rabastan as hard as he could on the face.

 

Rabastan reeled back from the pain of the blow, he lost his footing and stumbled backwards while painfully clutching his bleeding nose. He finally lost his battle with his balance and fell through the threshold of a darkened room at the end of the corridor, yelping like a dog on the way down.

 

Startled by the scuffle, Andromeda also fell to the ground. Realizing she’d been set free, she looked towards the figure who’d managed that. She felt a huge wave of relief flood her as she saw Ara standing above her.

 

Bracing herself on the wall she stood up and was about to rush for him, but before she could cross the very short distance Ara held out a hand for her to stop. She opened her mouth to call for him. She wasn’t given a chance when with an angry shout and a bright flash a blasting curse was fired their way. Ara dove to the side and covered Andromeda’s body with his own as they fell to the floor again. The curse flew over their heads and shattered the portrait of a Lestrange ancestor.

 

Ara’s arm shot forward and grabbed the leg of the pedestal they landed next to. With herculean effort he rose to his knees, twisting his torso and launching the table in front of him as hard as he could. He was rewarded with destroyed splinters as another curse from the raging Rabastan was intercepted by the piece of furniture.

 

“Stay down!” he barked at Andromeda. Without missing a beat, he shuffled on to his feet and ran through the cloud of powdered wood and glass. Seeing the red flash of a stunner barreling at him, he threw himself to the side to dodge it. Dipping low, he reached to the ground and picked up the spinning gold vase, took aim, and chucked it at Rabastan.

 

Refusing to move out of the way, the Lestrange cast a _Protego_ , stopping the vase from hitting him, and consequently allowing Ara to gain ground. Seeing the absolutely livid Black almost upon him – even without the access to his magic – Rabastan fired a bone breaker.

 

Too close to avoid the curse in the narrow hall, Ara quickly raised his left forearm and took the curse. Ignoring the loud snap and spurt of blood, Ara refused to relent his mad dash to the person who dared threaten his family.

 

The light of the last curse illuminated Ara’s furious face to Rabastan. Seeing the young man completely rebuff his undoubtedly painful attack threw the drunk, and pain addled Lestrange into a panic. Rasing his wand high, he incanted “ _CRU-!_ ” But Ara was too quick, he was already within range. Using his good arm, he snatched Rabastan’s wrist, curled it inwards and pointed the wand back at Rabastan himself just as he finished off the incantation for the torture curse. It struck. In a single moment Rabastan was left crumpled on the floor, twitching from his own _Cruciatus._

 

Acting quickly Ara kicked away the wand into the darkness somewhere. Rabastan tried to feebly reach out as it passed him, but to no avail as it flew past his reach and sight. Rabastan took one last forlorn look to where his wand was sent and reluctantly turned up to the person who downed him.

 

Ara was breathing hard through his nose from the sprint. He just stared down at Rabastan. The adrenaline still coursing through his system Ara paid no mind to his grievously injured arm, numb to any sensation. It hung limp at his side, blood soaking into the fine threads of his robes and flowing down his fingers, dripping and pooling on to the floor. He glanced behind him to see the results of the scuffle, the expensive hallway was blown to smithereens, he looked past the bits of rubble to find Andromeda. She was cowering but looked alright.

 

Seeing his foe distracted, Rabastan took his chance and tried crawling towards where his wand might be. But it was futile. He whimpered in pain as a hard boot was brought down on his elbow, halting him in his tracks. His other hand shot up to try and pry the offending foot off.

 

Ara looked down at the sniveling insect crawling on his belly beneath him. He slowly felt the adrenaline fueled focus dissipate, and in it’s place his seething temper began to take hold. The stress of having to deal with his family, the belief that he just wasn’t doing enough to stop this war, the proof of Voldemort alive, healthy, and powerful fueled his aggression. And to top it all off this pathetic wastrel tried to have his way with Andromeda. Andromeda who had been taken advantage of by her own family. One more person he failed.

 

Rabastan was clawing at the boot in a frenzy now. Sounds of pain and aguish continuously spilling from his lips as the pressure on his elbow built. He had chanced a look up at – who he had now realized was – Ara Black. When he first saw him he looked eerily calm, almost aloof. But as time passed and Ara kept watching him his face gradually morphed into sheer fury.

 

“H-hey look Ara… I was just – It’s already between the families now! I was just playing mate – It’s really not your place anyway – only Andromeda and I are involved… You can’t -OOF!” Rabastan’s rambling excuses were cut short by a vicious kick to his ribs. Ara had forced him on to his back, planted both his feet on the crook of his outstretched arms and took a hard seat on Rabastan’s broken ribs.

 

“Shut. Up!” Ara spat angrily through his teeth and slammed a hard cross to his left cheek. He yelped as his skin split and bled. “You were laughing weren’t you? Thought Andi’s tears - her cries for mercy were funny. Just thought you were playing with her? How about I play with you instead? Then we’ll see how much fun you’re having!” Each sentence Ara punctuated with another hard punch to the left side of his weeping face.

 

Andromeda was doing her best to get up and get herself under control. She felt disorientated and not a little emotional at the current situation. Her lack of focus was quickly quashed by the sounds of meaty, squelching thumps followed my increasingly garbled pleas to stop. In a panic she ran that way, she came upon Ara in a berserk rage hammering away at - _that bastard –_ Rabastan’s face. Or whatever was left of it. She saw the blood pooling around his head and shoulders, with shocks of white and pink within it. Bits of his gums and teeth.

 

Swallowing down her revulsion at the scene, Andromeda imploringly tugged at Ara to stop before he actually wound up killing the boy with his bare hands. Seeing her distraught expression, Ara stopped himself after he took one last parting shot at the beaten Lestrange. Rising up and immediately cradling Andromeda in his arms, his knuckles staining the shoulder of her dress red with a combination of both boy’s blood, he guided her back towards the main hall, leaving the weeping Rabastan alone.

 

As they disappeared around the last corridor, another lone figure stepped out of the shadows. The lone witness to the events of the night. Reaching the defeated Rabastan, Voldemort observed the teen with dispassion. He moved on into the dark room, found the discarded wand and lit the fireplace with a spell. He strode back to the fallen boy. “You’ve certainly made yourself a _ruthless_ enemy, haven’t you boy? I guess I’ll have to tell your parents that you’ve rather mangled yourself in your drunkenness. Playing with spells beyond your caliber isn’t smart now is it? Or I could tell them the truth if you’d prefer. Although that would come with the added risk of having that monstrous young man come back and seek retribution.”

 

His only response was a pained whimper. “That’s a smart lad. I’m rather lucky I noticed the commotion first and silenced you’re little spat Mr.Lestrange. It was quite entertaining to watch, even if I couldn’t hear anything over your crying.” Voldemort viciously grinned. “Come let’s get you off to St.Mungo’s. No amount of home remedies is going to fix you in your state.” Flicking the borrowed wand, the battered Rabastan was jostled painfully and launched to the lit fireplace, just as his hair was about to catch aflame, he was swallowed by green embers and carted off to the magical hospital.

 

Uncaringly chucking the wand aside, Voldemort dusted his hands, and hastened his way towards the exiting teens. “Now. Let’s see if I can’t get myself another bloodthirsty little soldier.” He said to himself in anticipation. _‘The crazy one are always so useful!’_

Ara, with Andromeda tucked in his embrace, mercifully found Arcturus and Melania talking to themselves at the edge of the party. The pair noticed the approach of their grandchildren, and smelled before they saw the unmistakable, metallic perfume of blood. Ara gently passed Andromeda over to Melania, the older lady clutched the devastated girl to her chest and threw a questioning look to Ara. Arcturus found Ara’s piercing gaze going through him. If he didn’t know any better he’d think the lad was reading his mind like a toddler’s picture book. Ara kept on his livid stare for another moment. Arcturus gulped in apprehension. His grandson was _pissed!_

 

“Get everyone. _Everyone._ And get out. We’re leaving. Now!” Arcturus could only nod, agree, and go do his marching orders. The pain was coming full force now, baring down more and more on his patience. He glided his way through the crowd and reached Slughorn and his other companions.

 

Slughorn and the others were immediately alarmed at the suddenly disheveled Ara. They saw him only a minute ago perfectly groomed and now he returned looking as if he’d been in a quidditch fall.

Ara was curt in his address “I’m sorry gentlemen, but it’s time the Black family made our exit. I just wanted to let you know that I’m still on for our meeting. I’m sorry for being so hurried.” He managed to get out through gritted teeth. The other men could only assent uneasily.

 

“I wonder if I might earn myself an invite to this meeting.” Slughorn eye’s swelled comically and Ara swiveled suddenly. Voldemort had his hand around the startled Black’s injured shoulder before he could fully turn around. A tense silence fell over the small group. Voldemort continued smirking at the young man, who in turn glared with all the heat he possessed at the would be tyrant. “Dear me, it seems that your meeting must be quite the private affair. You are a rather strong lad aren’t you!” Voldemort dismissed the lack of invitation and immediately switched the subject to Ara. He squeezed the firm muscles in his grasp, squeezing and caressing his way down Ara’s arm inch by inch, until he reached the edge of his forearm and rested it there.

 

“No matter my Lords, I’m sure you will make time for me sooner rather than later. However, you Mr. Black I expect to meet much, much sooner.” Ara was about to rebuff Voldemort’s demand and pull away his throbbing arm, but Voldemort was quick to claw a sore spot on the shattered arm. Ara winced, but showed nothing else of his agony. “We have quite a bit to speak about boy.” The threat was clear. Ara just growled under his breath, unable to escape Voldemort’s grasp. Voldemort kept smirking but finally relented and roughly released his hold.

 

Ara held his tongue, threw one last scowl at Voldemort and slunk his way out the door on the tails of the rest of his family. Voldemort’s amused demeanor dropped, he side-eyed his old potions professor who shied away from the look and hid himself in his cup once more. Turning around he headed back in to his party.

 

Ara exited the house and the wards to find his family waiting around for him, Arcturus held all of the wands to his chest. Half of them seemed terribly confused while the other half were irritated at their abrupt exodus. Andromeda was still holding on to Melania, shying away from her mother as the rest of the women – sans Walburga – were trying to console the distressed girl.

 

He blew past everyone, forcing them all to chase behind him as he stomped his way down the path out the wrought iron gates. There were calls for him to stop and slow down, demands to know what the hell he was doing, but he ignored everything and kept up his march.

 

Walburga had enough of the _spoilt brat’s_ attitude “What in the hell do you think you’re doing filthy beggar!?” She screeched while lunging at him and grabbing – unknown to her – his abused arm.

 

Ara immediately snapped. He pushed her off, reared his hand back and laid a firm backhanded slap across her face, tossing her bodily to the gravel beneath.

 

Pandemonium broke out with the family. Dorea gasped at her son’s appalling behavior, Orion rushed for his wife while the rest reeled in surprise at Ara’s jarring performance.

 

Ara didn’t let Orion complete his journey. Safely out of the restrictive and harmful Lestrange wards he let his magic burst and banished Orion to the feet of the rest of the family. Walburga held her hand to her bruised cheek, and stared in abject horror at the now very dangerous Ara.

 

He stuck his arm out and summoned the downed Walburga right into his outstretched hand. His bloodied hand clawed at the underside of her face, painfully cutting into her cheeks. “The next time you open your hole before I tell you to I’m going to sew it the fuck shut!” He snarled at her, and with an explosive crack, force apparated them both back to the manor. The rest were left in varying levels of shock at the scene, and what was no doubt going to escalate the moment they reached home.

 

Arcturus looked around at the rest of his family, took a deep steadying breath and voiced their collective thoughts. “Fuck!”


	7. Submission

* * *

 

Voldemort glided his hand over the surface of the gilded banister as he made his way up the final steps to the second floor of the Lestrange Manor. He snaked his head away from the luxuriously decorated hallway and turned his gaze to Randolph Lestrange trailing behind him, allowing the Lestrange head to move ahead and guide him to the meeting room organized for the night.

Voldemort impassively eyed the aging man who flicked his wand and abruptly tossed the entrance to the room aside. The tension in his shoulders, the stiffness of his wrist, and his clenched jaw gave away his thoughts to Voldemort. His mind had clearly wandered over to his injured son Rabastan currently in the care of St. Mungo's, and the lack of news concerning the boy's condition despite his wife following to look after him. It seemed that Randolph's composure lasted only till the last guest left his mansion at the conclusion of the gala.

The room simmered in light conversation, Voldemort uninterestedly strolled to the vacant seat at the head of the long table, on which Randolph has taken his seat on the opposite end. The remaining men idling by themselves at the bar quickly fell into step and resumed their specified seats at the table.

Finally perched on his throne-like chair, Voldemort rested his hands on the beautifully carved, redwood table, a true luxury afforded only to those from privilege –how far he'd come from his humble beginnings. Every person on the table gave him their undivided attention - save young Mr. Rodolphus Lestrange who had his arm slung lazily across the top of his seat. Randolph quickly remedied that with a painful hex, while the younger seats at the table failed to mask their cruel amusement.

Voldemort took a moment and surveyed all before him. Directly to his right was his classmate and closest supporter Vulcan Mulciber. They'd been together since their days in Hogwarts. He was the very first to see the potential in the young Tom Riddle, and was instrumental in entrenching him within the pureblood and magical world.

To Voldemort's left was Alfred Avery, another longtime supporter from their Slytherin dorm days. Voldemort considered him his lead advisor. Joining him was his son Frederick Avery, who similarly to the older Lestrange son and Lucius Malfoy, had very recently graduated Hogwarts. All these young men, including a few others like Antonin Dolohov, Voldemort had personally taken under wing to train and indoctrinate.

Beside them was Dominic Nott, another Hogwarts alumnus from his tenure as a student, as well as the person often left in charge of the 'public relations' side of things. In other words, the professional socialite and racketeer.

Sat opposite Nott was the severe and disdainful Abraxas Malfoy. The bald wizard had a light coloured, villainous looking goatee stretching down from his chin, which tickled his gloved knuckles that rested on the ram-head ornament of his cane. His son, Lucius, was attempting to imitate his father's demeanour as closely as possible from his other side.

The remaining seats were filled by the Andreas and Evan Rosier, father and son respectively. And finally the Lestranges took up the end. A single chair was left vacant for the currently admitted Rabastan.

Unnerved by the stretching silence, Andreas Rosier felt compelled to get conversation started. "Tonight was a resounding success! Do you not think so, my Lords?" This kicked off a lengthy, smug, self-congratulatory dialogue.

Alfred Avery swirled the last sip of his drink in his mouth and swallowed. "As far as I can tell, we've all but conquered the traditionalist faction. The more… worthy ones anyway." he drawled to the rest of the room.

"And the rest will fall in line or suffer the consequences." Stated Vulcan Mulciber imperiously, slapping his hand down hard on the table.

Abraxas Malfoy disinterestedly fiddled with the ornament on his cane. "I couldn't help but notice however, Slughorn was rather shifty this evening." Malfoy threw accusingly at Dominic Nott.

Nott simply brushed off Abraxas with a loose wave of his hand. "He wanted to hold out. I impressed upon him why that would be a terrible idea."

"Slughorn is of no consequence." Voldemort gained everyone's attention. "No. What drew my attention were the Blacks. They left extremely abruptly. Tell me Andreas, did your sister's family not find me worth their time?" His eyes narrowed and focused in on the pair of Rosiers. The eerie red tint of his gaze shining in the relative darkness of the room.

The younger Evan Rosier shivered at the violence those eyes promised, being more than familiar with Voldemort's tells from his time training under him. The elder Andreas Rosier cursed his sister, Druella, in his mind. "Something must have come up. They would not have left otherwise." Andreas offered as an excuse.

"I'm aware." Voldemort replied instantly, clearly unimpressed.

Andreas gulped at his unsatisfactory response. "I wouldn't worry Voldemort; they're Blacks after all. No chance they don't agree with us...with you. Walburga and Orion especially, they'll handle the rest of the family if need be."

"Do you doubt yourself Andreas? I certainly do." Voldemort threatened menacingly. The Rosiers sunk deeper into their seats. Evan held his shaking hands together under the table, he was not looking forward to his next training session.

"Lucius!" Voldemort suddenly announced causing the young Malfoy to jump. His lapse in decorum earned him a stern glare from his father.

"Yes my Lord?" Lucius managed to keep his voice even-keeled, but the sweat collecting on the top his lip and the back of his neck betrayed him.

"Tell me about him. The young Ara Black."

Lucius felt his fear melt slightly, as the heat of humiliation and rage fled over his skin at the name of the scoundrel who tarnished his reputation the past year. "He is a nothing! A swine!" Lucius roared.

Voldemort felt the last, and only, fetter of patience snap at the young Malfoy's heated rant. Rising slowly from his seat, he made his way down the table to Lucius.

Lucius knew he'd erred the moment he found himself pinned by Voldemort's malevolent stare. The entire room felt themselves out of breath as Tom strode towards Malfoy. "Why does everyone feel the need to test me today?"

Gripping the back of Lucius' trembling, moist neck in his strong hands. He twisted him painfully and forced the young man to meet his eyes. "You absolutely reek of it you know? The fear. Fear of me. Yet you somehow scrounge up the audacity to lie! Right to my face!"

"I-I'm sorry my Lord! I'll do better -" Lucius pleaded.

"Quiet! No more of your lies - I'll find out myself! _Legillimens_!" Voldemort cut off any argument, jabbed his wand in between Malfoy's eyes and cast the spell. He savagely ripped through Lucius' mind, upheaving any semblance of order in his scavenge for any memory of Ara Black.

Lucius' anguished scream rent the air. The others stared on in either unconcern or sick glee as the young man was forced under the mental torture. All too quickly for some, the uproar ended. Immediately Lucius sagged in his chair – his spine and legs losing all strength, his head lolled, eyes remained unfocused,bloodshot and in a daze. Dark red blood trickled out of his nostrils, staining his pearly teeth crimson.

"Most intriguing…" Voldemort straightened his back and ceased looming over Malfoy. Giving one last dark look at Lucius, he turned his attention away from the seated group. "Leave us. Except you Andreas."

Immediately, Abraxas irritably fisted the lapel of his son's robe and apparated them both out of the manor right from their chairs. Subsequent hurried exits were made by the remaining members, sensing the extremely tense atmosphere radiating off both Randolph Lestrange and Voldemort.

Andreas nodded to his son Evan to make his way out as well right behind Rodolphus. Voldemort rounded on the still seated Andreas Rosier. Randolph Lestrange merely looked on.

"It's time the Black family made their position clear. Impress upon them the severity of the situation Rosier, if their response is unsatisfactory, both you and them will face my… displeasure. Randolph, make sure Renata is also aware. I will no longer ignore their ambivalence; Lucius' memories have shown that the Black children can be excellent assets. I want them – get it done!" Voldemort's demeanor grew increasingly heated as he spoke his demands – his magic flaring with his emotions. Andreas shuddered at the heavy presence. Both men breathed in relief as Voldemort suddenly vanished – satisfied that his command had been registered.

* * *

 

Sirius, Narcissa, Regulus, and Kreacher were startled out of their rooms by a sudden loud 'crack' followed by an even louder screech. Only a moment after confirming with each other, wands in hand they all rushed down towards the disturbance. Another series of cracks sounded soon after.

Sirius gulped nervously, wary of the unusual situation. Purposefully he jostled himself into the front of the party, holding his wand ahead as he carefully crept to their destination - only to find everyone back from the party flittering around the entrance to the main parlour. He sighed in relief. Then snorted in annoyance.

"OI! What are you hens clucking about?" He shouted from the back. The startled adults didn't have an opportunity to answer the approaching children before the commotion commenced anew.

"SCOUNDREL! How dare you!" Came the incensed scream from Walburga. Finding herself unceremoniously hurled on to the floor. She scuttled back away as fast as she could from Ara - gone clearly insane. Her retreat halted as her back met the frame of the fireplace.

Ara shook in barely restrained apoplexy "How dare I? How dare you!" He shouted right back at Walburga. Responding to his fury, his magic erupted the hearth in an orange pyre. Walburga howled and tossed herself away from the inferno.

Still excitable from the first confrontation, Orion rushed over to Arcturus, grabbed a wand out of his hand and bodied his father to the ground. Sending the older man and the rest of the wands clattering on the floor.

He could almost taste the frothing rage Ara was in, and was feeling deathly afraid for his wife. She might be doing her level best to feign ignorance, but Orion was becoming increasingly aware that his and his wife's life hung in the balance. He'd found out about the Lestrange contract. Wasting no more time deliberating his course of action – he levelled his wand and fired off the first curse on his lips.

" _Stupefy_!" The red jet of energy sailed true, the stunner was mere inches from his target. That's where it remained.

The _stupefy_ had been caught on the tip of Ara's wand. Not shielded, not deflected – caught! And the boy wasn't even looking at it – he just continued to turn Walburga's hair white with his stare. Orion felt cold fear race up his spine, the nervous sweat tickling the back of his neck and hairline.

Walburga felt the trembles start, she clenched her teeth and curled her fingers to stop it from showing, but her shaking shoulders and swimming eyes betrayed her.

Ara channeled more magic into the spell caught on his wand; bathing the world in its crimson brilliance. The sweltering heat from the unrelenting fire, the deep red glow of the spell drowning out all colour but itself, and Ara's hateful scowl. To Walburga it felt as if she had been plunged into sulphur and brimstone, and was facing the very devil himself.

"It'd be so easy, so _bloody_ _easy_ to just lay the blame entirely on you. But we both know that it wasn't just you behind this." Ara hissed out. He turned his eyes on the rest and the world exploded, the overpowered stunner flashed, momentarily blinding everyone. Orion painfully covered his stinging eyes and yelled in distress with the others. Another pulse of magic and he found himself without wand as well.

" _Captivatus_ " a single spell found Orion, Walburga, Cygnus, and Druella bound tightly in shackles and chains. Ara yanked hard on the captives, dragging them roughly and lay them prostrate before him.

Dorea, still not entirely recovered from the blinding flash, finally snapped out "Ara that's enough! Stop this right now!" Blinking out the last colourful dots swimming through her vision away, she started hurriedly towards her enraged son. She had to stop him before he managed to do something he would really regret.

Ara spared his mother a sidelong glance, refusing to take his full attention off the four adults beneath him. He might have relented under his mother's distress, had he not caught another glimpse of Andromeda – still looking so vulnerable, so betrayed. He turned away completely from Dorea and barked out a command. "Bellatrix!"

Before her mind even registered her name, her body had moved on instinct. Scooping up a random wand from the floor she shot a petrification curse at Dorea, halting her in her tracks. She turned around, her back shunning her downed parents and her wand daring the rest of the family in front of her.

Bellatrix felt the shudder of excitement crawl up her spine from the almost pavlovian response she had to Ara. First the lord from earlier tonight, and now a thoroughly boiling Ara; this was turning out to be an exceedingly great night for her and she failed to keep the sick smirk from twisting her lips at the fact. Nervously, everyone shifted under Bellatrix's suspicious smile.

"I want them to hear it from you. I want you, to tell them yourselves, exactly what you've done to them." Ara stared down at the four and absorbed their reactions. Druella was confused, her head shaking erratically trying to decipher what he wanted from her. Cygnus was tugging defiantly at the uncomfortable metal shackles keeping him tethered to the floor on his knees in increasingly angry grunts, his long blonde hair frayed from the rough treatment he'd been put under. Orion sat there defeated – almost ashamed that his discretions were about to come to light.

Walburga was catatonic in fright, unable to tear her eyes away from the man standing above her, wand ready to cut her down at a moment's notice – it seems she'd finally pushed Dorea's son too far and the true extent of his Black madness was readying itself to finally, finally unleash.

Getting no answer after waiting a moment, Ara snarled out again "I'm not going to ask a second time! Someone start talking!"

Cygnus ceased his tugging "What the bloody hell are you on about?" he spat.

"Lestrange, you fucking scum ! Does that ring any bells for you?" Ara spat right back. Immediately, the colour drained from Cygnus' face, he restarted his tugging with renewed ferocity.

Realizing that Cygnus was going to be completely useless, Ara lost the last thread of his patience. "I said tell them what you did!" with that he snapped off a curse and shattered the shackles on Cygnus's wrists. Cygnus tried to make his escape as soon as he was released, but found his feet meeting only air before he could take even a second step towards the exit.

Cygnus found himself slowly rising towards the ceiling, gravity having abandoned him. And suddenly it came back – with a vengeance. He was slammed hard into the floor. Splayed the ground with the burden of rage being brought down on him, his bones protested before they gave way in loud pops. Cygnus screamed as his joints were squeezed out, his muscles cramping and burning under the increasing pressure.

Druella was screaming, the sounds of her husband's protesting flesh and bones grating on her ears and wearing away her sanity. She could only babble away, pleading in hysteric desperation that she had no clue why any of this was happening.

"Stop! Stop! I'll tell you! We- us and the Lestrange's – the-there's a contract. Stop already! Please!" Orion desperately screamed out, trying to leap forward but his bonds keeping him leashed and on his knees. Watching his own brother being steadily turned to paste broke his mute spell.

With a final squelch, Cygnus was left on the floor between his wife and brother. Orion took a second to steady his breath "Cygnus – he came to us a while back – he said he'd been approached." He started to try and explain himself to Ara.

"Don't look at me. I told you to tell them." Ara instructed again, forcefully pointing towards the children and the others. Orion didn't have the courage to keep his eyes on the three young girls he'd been attempting to trade – instead he chose the petrified Dorea, whose eyes swiveled to meet his.

"They told him that he was being excluded from these private parties, with all these important people – each one more prestigious than the next. That they were pledging to this new powerful pureblood lord. They made it sound like this new world revolution – and anyone not a part of it were going to be left in the gutters." Orion began haltingly. He chanced another look at Ara, hoping more than anything for any sympathy at all. He found none.

Quickly turning his eyes back and keeping them fixed on Dorea. His tongue darted out to try and wet his parched lips as he continued. "It would be preposterous if the Blacks were left behind, so after a little digging we found out that the Lestranges were a major player. Walburga got in touch with Renata to get our foot in – they're close so we thought that it would've just been the formality of an introduction. We were wrong. We were told that a certain level of commitment was required, that we had to pay our way in flesh and blood before we were allowed into anything. We met him then – Lord Voldemort. Our duty – he called it – our duty to our peers, ourselves, and the rest of the magical world was to join his movement. But it is needed for us to show our faith was necessary." Orion dragged out his story, half in attempt to stall from saying what he needed to and half in attempt to sway the rest to his side.

"R-Renata chimed in here. She and Walburga convinced each other that the best possible way to ensure our allegiance was to join hands as family. It was a win-win situation! We would be welcomed with open arms, and the families would remain pure going forward! So we agreed on a contract. The two Lestrange boys with Bellatrix and Andromeda." Orion finally rushed out, to be met only with pin-drop silence and incredulous stares.

Orion's sense of guilt seemed to resurface at the negative response. "We-we were planning on doing so again to gain further favour… another contract… between Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy…" he admitted reluctantly. Causing the youngest girl to jump and hide further behind Sirius. Even Bellatrix speared him with a look of shock over her shoulder.

Another quiet sob escaped Andromeda as she was cradled further into her Grandmother's bosom, Melania gently stroked her hair as she shushed her tenderly. Melania turned away from her groveling children, finding it unbearable to look at their foreign faces any longer.

Arcturus finally returning to his senses, rose from the floor – drawing support from Kreacher to pick himself up. "Enough…that's enough…" he said tiredly. He tried moving forward but was once more reminded to hold his place when Bellatrix trained her wand on him. Halting his steps, he lifted his hands, palm outwards. "Bellatrix." She made no indication of moving, her face set harder than granite.

Arcturus looked behind her, he saw Ara cradling his shattered arm to his chest; the blood drenching his clothes, and the stark white of his bones jutting out from beneath his skin. "Ara's hurt Bellatrix, we need to get him help. Put down your wand - I promise you nobody's going to sell you or your sisters off." He tried placating; his expression and voice pronouncing his age.

"Nobody has the right." Ara stated as fact. As a warning.

"See? I agree with Ara. I'm not going to allow any of this to happen. They'd need my blessing – something they don't have. Now put your wand away and help get the boy looked at. I'll deal with everything. I promise. I don't want anymore bloodshed in my home Bellatrix." Arcturus beseeched the determined young girl in front of him.

The adrenaline was wearing off, and with it the numbness from the pain; Ara's throbbing anger felt ready to ebb in the face of reason. But the notion shattered alongside Walburga's last remaining shard of control.

"How can you listen to this – this final smear of filth that sprang from that dead bloodtraitor father of his!? The Blacks used to stand for something! Pure! Magic! And now you allow him to tarnish everything! Those girls should be proud to serve this house! To finally be of some worth to the Black name beyond the waste they produce!" Walburga exploded, braying with force at Arcturus.

"The greatest curse the Blacks have known in centuries is the day you and your mother failed to die with that bloodtraitor scum Potter!" She rounded on Ara, her fear and sanity accompanying each other in flight. Both were returned to her with a flash of the _Cruciatus_.

Dorea had broken the hold of the petrification. Walburga's frame convulsed in agony as Dorea's wand stabbed at her. Walburga succumbed to unconsciousness, the pain too much to bear.

"No more. We're done for tonight." Dorea commanded, teeth clenched tight, biting down on the anger she dare not let escape. Saner heads needed to prevail, and hers seemed to be the last – Cruciatus curse notwithstanding.

"Kreacher, take the children upstairs. Arcturus, floo the healer would you?" Kreacher shuffled quietly and took hold of Regulus by the hand – drawing him away from the carnage and back to his bed. The other children, Bellatrix, and Melania with Andromeda dutifully followed. Arcturus too obeyed the request to call on a private healer; the need for discretion disqualifying St. Mungo's as an option.

Two wordless stunners claimed Orion and Druella, leaving only two conscious people in the room.

Dorea and Ara stood alone together. Defiance met determination in contest.

She looked into her son's eyes, steadfastly refusing to look down at his injury to temporarily halt her maternal instincts clawing at her chest. "I cannot believe you've done this." Ara felt anger bubble up at her accusation.

"And what exactly can't you believe? That I'd protect them from being sold off?"

Dorea's temper responded in kind to Ara's "You know good and well that that is not what I am implying! I didn't raise you to be like this! Look what you've done to Cygnus!" She pointed at his mangled form.

"Oh! My apologies then! Since you're the best example, next time I'll use _Crucio_ shall I?" he said savagely, gesturing with his good hand to Walburga.

"Do not dare take that tone with me. What they did is reprehensible and we will address it, I promise you that they have no foot to stand on and they never will – but that does not excuse your behaviour. You jumped immediately to violence, and I won't stand for it." She scolded.

"Got the job done though didn't it? None of you had any clue what they were up to. But I get it, next time I'll just wait till its too late and lament that there's nothing to be done." Ara continued to work himself up. Dorea shut her eyes and took a deep calming breath. Her son was livid and being purposely difficult because of it.

"There's no talking to you right now. Get upstairs and for once please listen to me and wait for the healer in your room. Don't show me your face until you have decided to fix it." Dorea may have sounded like she was calm, but Ara understood that she was on the last tether of her patience.

Being reminded of his injury brought the pain back to the forefront of his mind, and so he acquiesced, but not before leaving a last parting shot. "I did what had to be done, mum. You don't like how I've gone about it, but you, I, and everyone else now know, that the next person to try a stunt like this is going to lose their head. I'm prepared to do that; I'd like it if you were as well." His voice trailed off as he searched for reprieve in a vial of pain potion.

All Dorea could do, was begin cleaning up.

* * *

 

As with the last three nights, Andromeda found it impossible to sleep. Alone in the dark, she unfailingly found Rabastan, Walburga, and her own father, all tugging on a leash around her neck. Normally, she would have sought her mother for comfort, but Andromeda found she could no longer place her faith there anymore.

Ideally she would have made her way towards Ara instead. But he'd disappeared almost immediately after the healer visited three whole nights back. So that's why she found herself inside Bellatrix's room, if anyone would be able to find him – it'd be her.

"I thought you would've broken sooner." Was Bellatrix's blasé response to her query. She grabbed Andromeda's arm and _apparated_ without warning.

With a rather manly 'Oof!' Andromeda landed hard on her hands and knees, while Bellatrix looked completely unflustered. "Funny isn't it? Out of everybody back home I would have put my galleons on you alone knowing where Ara's hidey hole is." Bellatrix said with honest curiosity.

Andromeda narrowed her eyes as she carefully dusted herself off. "I find it funnier that he told you and not me." Bellatrix started on her way as soon as Andromeda was back on two feet.

"He does tell you everything, doesn't he? But to answer your cheek, he hasn't told me either."

"Then how in the World do you know? Where even are we for that matter?" confusion reared in Andromeda, she peered around to try and find any known landmarks, but visibility was low given the early hour of their arrival.

"Edinburgh. And it's my job to know, whether he likes it or not I've decided that Ara is too important to us – and therefore has lost all right to privacy. So, I take great pains in knowing where he is and what he's doing at all times… also a friend of mine told me." Bellatrix responded, trying to purposely be cryptic and irritating.

"What? How does Ellie Stafford know about this?" Andromeda deduced immediately, unconcerned with the well established fanaticism Bellatrix had for Ara.

Bellatrix stopped in her tracks, and found herself exceptionally startled by her sister's astuteness. "How in the blazes do you know about Staffie?"

Andromeda too was astounded by her sister's stupidity. "Bella… you said a friend told you. You literally only have the one."

"Oh. Well… hmph! See if I ever help you stalk Ara again."

"You still haven't answered me though. How does Ellie Stafford know about Ara's – whatever it is."

"Why don't you just ask him yourself? We're here. _Reducto_!" Bellatrix marched up the walkway to an unassuming dark wood door, and in true fashion, proceeded to blow it to bits with a blasting hex.

What followed was a startled cry of "Crikey!" as Ara rushed out from within one of the darkened rooms to find Andromeda and Bellatrix both waiting outside his, now destroyed, entrance in the early hours of what barely counted as morning.

Ara blinked rapidly, scratching his head at their less than expected appearance at his doorstep. This was apparently an everyday situation for Bellatrix, she sidestepped Ara and continued on into the house. "Where's the kitchen? It's close enough to the morning for some tea."

"Huh? Oh… er right, in-in the back." Came Ara's eloquent answer, as Bellatrix casually made herself very much at home.

Andromeda was hell-bent to get some answers out of him, and there were many questions rolling around her head, but her most immediate concern was simply "How come Ellie Stafford knows about this place but we didn't?".

"Well, I guess that answers my question. You might as well get inside; I'll tell you the story." Ara bent and took Andromeda's hand in his and ushered her in, who with a flick of her wand cast a Reparo to fix the door.

A few cups of tea later, Ara had disclosed his dealing with Ellie Stafford's father to purchase the house, and its status as his now go to place during the April escapes. Contrary to what Bellatrix initially believed, this house wasn't some den of debauchery.

Andromeda had scooted her chair over to Ara's side, drawing warmth, and much needed solidarity from his comforting presence. "Why did you leave?" Andromeda asked from his shoulder, her voice thin and anxious. The underlying 'because I needed you' needn't be said.

Ara pulled her in a little tighter. "Because I was angry, and so was mum. I thought it'd better to put some space between us and allow the both of us to cool off. Then like every normal dysfunctional family we'll sweep it under the rug and pretend we didn't have a serious argument until the next time we have a fight and it's used as another point of contention."

"So the usual. You will be coming home with us now then." Andromeda supplied imperiously.

"Well, not quite yet. I've a meeting very soon." He said as he checked the Tempus spell to confirm the time.

"Aha! I knew there was hanky panky going on here!" Bellatrix crowed triumphantly.

"No, you pervert. An actual meeting, this is serious. We were all at the Lestrange's, you saw him as clearly as I did. Voldemort he calls himself, now with a cult and everything. He's got a lot of people troubled – and with good reason. There's people out there being hurt, and I know he's behind it." Ara relayed his concerns regarding him, the danger his views pose, and more importantly he shared Voldemort's origins.

"You're scared of him." Bellatrix accused with a sneer, this uncharacteristic show of weakness from Ara sitting uncomfortably in her stomach.

He shook his head. "I am scared; but not of him. I'm scared of what he represents. Hypocritical it may be of a half-blood, but he's got his mob convinced. I even saw it on your face Bellatrix, Walburga had it on hers as well." Bellatrix reeled at that, being compared to the woman who tried to barter her off was distinctly unpleasant. "There are others who can be of immense help against him and his racist ideologies. That's pretty much what I've been doing the last couple days - spending every waking moment trying to persuade a few old codgers that alienating and killing a large portion of our magical population probably isn't a good idea." He finished facetiously.

"Down boy! I'm not disagreeing with you. Not only is Andi playing 'stir the cauldron' with a mudblood, as she's rightly pointed out, my solitary friend is one as well."

"Lovely." Was Andromeda's disgusted drawl, whether it was from the charming epithet, or the unnecessary euphemism, was unclear. Probably both.

Ara chuckled. Then he outright laughed. He'd been tensed and coiled in angst, that he'd been useless and ineffectual all this time in rebirth. Yet here it was – the accomplishment he'd searched so hard for smacking him right in the face. He'd already denied Voldemort one of his most devout. Bellatrix Black casually admitting being best friends with a muggleborn; would wonders never cease? Either way, a fair amount of his worry did. For the first time he felt that he just may be able to do this.

"Sorry-sorry, got carried away there. Thanks girls." He smiled brightly, scooping them both up in a crushing embrace. Bellatrix happily latched on like a limpet, pressing her cheek hard against his.

"For what?" Andromeda asked from her position on his other side.

"More than I can say. Okay hold tight, you guys are joining me for the meeting." One _apparition_ later, they stood together at the end of a pier on an empty beach. As the disorientation of the sudden travel retreated, they were greeted with a crisp breeze, the scent of the ocean tickling their noses. Gulls noisily danced above them, in contrast to the complete silence of the early morning.

Thrown once more into the unknown, Andromeda questioned her surroundings. "Where are we now?" She saw the small town in the distance, but all she saw immediately around her was the vast space of sand, sea, and the tiny, lone bridge - coming from and leading to nowhere – on which they stood.

"Belhaven beach. Come along we're getting late." Ara took five quick steps down the bridge to the edge of the shallow water.

"Come along where? There's nothing here." Bellatrix quipped from beside him. Ara tapped his nose and brought their attentions to the mirrored surface of the calm water underfoot. He began reciting what was clearly a password of some kind. "The secrets we keep are often a reflection of ourselves. Therefore, only our reflections can reveal the secret we wish to know!" The girls stared transfixed at their slowly rippling mirror images, a sudden burst of effervescence exploded from the water and swallowed all three whole. The beach was empty again.

Their vision was drowned in a deluge of bubbles, only the nauseating tilting allowed them to feel any motion. The sudden, soft yellow sand between their toes signaled the end of the trip. Wait. Where had their shoes gone?

"Don't worry, we'll get them back on the way out. But forget that! Look around you and take it all in. Welcome to the Sea Crate! The world's best hidden, and only private underwater lounge; accessible through only seven portals kept religiously under _Fidelius_. A true marvel of Magic!" The admiration was clear to hear in Ara's voice.

And with good reason. Andromeda and Bellatrix stared in wonder. A giant bubble dome under the bluest ocean they'd ever seen. Schools of ocean life streaming overhead. Dense sand flooring, structures made from sea-life and coral gracefully sculpted to construct elaborate furniture.

The eerie, green skinned, ocean dwelling Qalupalik served as the attendants for the establishment, while the sirens above in the water, caught and delivered the freshest seafood for the visitors. They were awed, it was as if Atlantis had been found and somebody turned it into a restaurant.

"Mr. Black! We are all gathered here." Marlon McKinnon stood from his table and waved the Black children over. "Oh, hello! Who might your guests be?" McKinnon asked, he was wary of strangers given the tacit discretion of the gatherings.

Sever Selwyn's eyes gleamed as he recognized the intruders. "That dear boy, I believe are Bellatrix and Andromeda Black. I've been waiting for Ara to finally introduce you, Bellatrix." Selwyn's address was a little to keen, making Bellatrix recoil.

"Who's scary jerry over here?" Bellatrix asked Ara about Sever Selwyn. Ara and Sever both were properly embarrassed.

"Right, of course, introductions. Let's start with scary Jerry shall we?" Marlon McKinnon teased. "Sever Selwyn, better known, or rather unknown as Chief Unspeakable at the Ministry. I believe you know his daughter, hence the uncomfortable attention on you my dear."

"I'm sorry sir, I have no idea who your daughter is." Bellatrix rebuked the claim.

"I think he's talking about the first year who you manhandled the first few weeks back at Hogwart's, and now for whatever reason won't leave you alone. You know? Selena Selwyn." Andromeda chimed in.

"My little stalker you mean?" Bellatrix eyed Sever, who continued to awkwardly analyse her. "I see the family resemblance at least."

"Moving on, moving on! We have here also, Gaston Gamp – head of the DMLE, and next to him our resident head Auror Edgar Bones." Marlon identified the bear-like Gamp, and the square-jawed young man next to him.

"Joining us with them is-"

"Scheherazade Shafiq! The director of St. Mungo's and the premier magical medic on the hemisphere!" Andromeda's eager outburst left no question about the identity of the olive skinned woman at the table.

Scheherazade lifted her defined, delicate eyebrows "My my! It seems we needn't have bothered with any preamble. Everyone already knows everyone here apparently. Come Ara dear, I'd like for you to sit beside me, you too child, I want know my admirer better." Shafiq spoke in her rich Mediterranean accent and throaty voice.

"And well, lastly, I suppose, is me. Marlon McKinnon." He finished as the rest took their chosen seats. Gamp scoffed at McKinnon's self introduction.

Edgar Bones smiled and decided to pick up the torch "What Marlon isn't telling you, is that he owns every single magical textile manufacturer in Europe. We'd literally be naked without him."

"That's all pish anyway." Gaston gave a rough rejoinder concerning the pleasantries. "Boy! You trust the birds?"

"With my life Gamp." Ara confirmed with full confidence.

Gamp nodded once. "Good, because that's what's at stake. Welcome ladies, to The Disorder! Let's get on with it."

* * *

 

Ara returned to Grimmauld place that night. Neither Bellatrix nor Andromeda allowed any leniency. He entered his room to find his mother sat down on his bed, already waiting for him. Her visage of calm ruined only by the nervous stroking of her ever present brooch.

"I'm still upset with you." Dorea finally said, breaking the silent truce. Ara looked at his mother, she was containing herself – but only just. Her chest was heavy and she'd long since lost the patience to carry the weight.

With a deep sigh he said "I know."

"They were wrong, and they've been punished. Walburga and Orion have been sequestered to their wing, they are not allowed anywhere else for the moment. The same goes for Cygnus, but that is less choice and more necessity – you have rendered him unable to leave the bed for at least another two weeks."

"Good." Came his harsh opinion.

Dorea's face contorted in annoyance at his ruthlessness. "Do not interrupt me. You may feel that they're deserving of their predicament, but what of Druella? She was innocent in all this and you treated her like the worst sort of criminal." Chided Dorea.

Ara visibly calmed himself again, trying his hardest to not be callous with this obviously sensitive topic. The Hogwart's motto sounded like a fair warning for the situation. "And I'm sorry about that, I'll do my best to make nice with her again – she didn't warrant the treatment I gave her. But mum, I'll be honest, I'm not apologizing that I did what I did. Let's skip the theatrics, I know that you saw the necessity of my actions; you just don't approve of how I went about it."

"Fine. Promise me you will show restraint from here on out, and I'll bury the hatchet." Dorea rose swiftly from her perch and strode up to her son.

"Deal." Ara opened his arms, and beckoned her closer.

Dorea drew her arms close around him, resting her head to listen to his heart beat. "You will also apologize to Druella."

"Done. Now can I please have my mother back and not whatever dangerous magical creature I'm hugging?" Dorea hummed in agreement, and gave him a pinch for his insolence.

* * *

 

Druella stared in frustration at the flames. Her brother Andreas was relentless with his pestering. What business was it of his anyways? Any discussions with the Lestranges had been discarded, and Cygnus no longer had any say in the matter.

The confrontation was terrifying sure, but Ara, the sweet boy, had made amends for that terrible evening, profuse in his regret. He had however, made it abundantly clear that nobody had any right to dictate her daughters' lives – and she wholeheartedly agreed.

Where Cygnus got it in his head that anyone would have been in agreement with him – discounting Walburga of course – she didn't know. And what was even more annoying, was Andreas' incessant nattering. These were Black family matters, not Rosier.

"That's about enough Andreas. For the last time, none of my daughters are going to be betrothed to any of your friends' children. Cygnus never should have spoken about this; and he wouldn't have had the nerve, had I had any inkling. That's final!" With her piece said she stood up and walked out. Andreas Rosier was left cursing in the magical fire of the floo call.

Confident that she wouldn't be witnessed, Walburga rushed to the fireplace before Andreas could disconnect. "Walburga? I thought you were under house arrest?" Andreas startled at her sudden appearance.

"Quiet down! I don't have much time. Listen to me carefully, the only way you're getting Black support is if you get rid of that filthy mongrel Ara! Tell my Lord I said that." Just as quickly as she came Walburga left, not willing to risk the repercussions of getting caught disobeying her very strict orders. But her Lord needed to know, and that bastard Ara needed to die. She would make the Blacks great once more!

* * *

 

"And then we visited the MACUSA headquarters, inside they have this disused execution chamber, which was rather horrifying. But, part of it was absolutely fascinating! They'd somehow managed to isolate the pensive memory projection principle in a single spell, and fed it into this tar - enchanted with a devouring curse. It was extraordinary! The implications of crafting that spell boggles the mind!" Pandora exuberantly recounted a few highlights from her trip to the United States.

Ara wasn't paying much attention to the content, much more focused on the passion in her eyes, the soft caress of her skin on his fingers, and her intoxicating scent.

Pandora pouted and tugged on their joined hands "Are you even paying attention to me right now?"

Ara leaned in even closer, nuzzling his nose into her hair just behind her temple. Pandora squealed delightedly at the ticklish sensation. "When you're with me Pandora, there's nothing that can take my mind away from you." His husky whisper fondled her ears. Adventure, romance, escape, Pandora was all of this to Ara.

"Stop it!" Pandora admonished playfully. "We're almost at Hagrid's hut, I'd very much like to avoid my grandparents seeing me being intimate with a boy! Think of the scandal!" she affected faux horror.

"Remind me why they're at Hogwarts again? I thought they lived in America." Ara dragged her back as she tried to spin away from him and his wandering hands.

"I knew you weren't listening! Fine I'll repeat myself, I don't know why a brilliant Ravenclaw like myself bother to bring herself down to your pedestrian intellectual levels." She said, while attempting to keep dodging Ara. "They're here to help get our new magical creatures professor settled – he's their brother-in-law after all-" Pandora pealed in laughter as Ara managed to prod her in her underarm.

"Don't keep me in suspense, who is it?" He chased after her once she managed to wriggle free of his grasp.

Pandora hurried over to the hut and away from Ara "Newt Scamander!"

* * *

 


End file.
